


Mixed Bag (Drabble Collection)

by chaya



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Angst, Barbershop Quartet, Cats, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mermaids, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, POV Original Female Character, Pirates, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Smut, merSteve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:45:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 60
Words: 39,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1925544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaya/pseuds/chaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles in response to Tumblr prompts.</p><p>Mostly Steve/Bucky drabbles, but also gen, Barbershop Quartet OT4, and bizarre mermaid AUs. (Don't judge.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kiss Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/91207202566/autumn-sweet-fae-answered-your-post-bored
> 
> "Bucky recovering finally starts to feel more comfortable with phyisical touch and then softly kisses Steve for the first time in 70 years"
> 
> Rated G for recovery fluff.

Bucky doesn’t sleep-walk so much as zone out and have no memory of what he did. It’s one of the bigger things that hasn’t budged since Bucky started talking again, started recovering. What he does in these episodes doesn’t tend to make sense, and it can go on for a few seconds or close to an hour.

(Once, Sam finds him with his palms flat against the fridge, standing in silence. Sam watches for a few minutes, finally deciding that 1) Bucky’s not hurting anyone and 2) he’ll get that soda later.)

They’ve developed a system: they don’t bother him when he does something odd, unless it’s harmful, and they tell him what he did after the fact. It’s disorienting for Bucky to lose time, and he prefers to hear that he spent an hour watching television or twenty minutes staring into space than to be left wondering what he got up to.

So Steve blinks a few times, takes some deep breaths, and puts his pencil down. Shuts his sketchbook. Gets to his feet. Walks to the hallway - nobody there - and tries the common area. Then the kitchen. Finally, Bucky’s bedroom. Bucky is there, wrapped up in sheets and fidgeting his way toward a nap. When Steve pokes his head in, Bucky sits up a little, giving the traditional lack of eye contact and looking at the open door instead.

"Hey, Buck." Steve bites his lip. "Just so you know, a minute ago you walked into my room when I was sketching, and,"

"I kissed you," Bucky finishes, voice even. "I remember."

"Oh. Okay." Steve coughs and then nods, scratching thoughtfully on the stubble on his jawline. "Just. Wanted to let you know." He nods again, for some reason, and reaches for the doorknob, intending to leave Bucky to his sleep.

"It was on purpose," Bucky says.

"O-oh?"

Bucky nods. “I meant to do it. I wanted to.”

"Oh," Steve says again, and the doorknob is weirdly slippery in his hand all of a sudden. "Oh. I see."

"It was good. If you ever want to do it back, I wouldn’t mind."

"Oh."

"But not right now, please." Bucky pulls the blanket over his shoulder as if in illustration. "I feel really tired."

"Um. Gotcha."


	2. Cat Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/91205415421/thegeminisage-answered-your-post-bored-writing
> 
> "unexpected kitten acquisition, bonus if this helps the winter soldier’s recovery"
> 
> Rated G for judgemental cat squints.

"It’s - what’s wrong with its  _face?_ ”

"It’s supposed to look like that," Bucky says curtly. The cat continues to glare at Steve from its perch on the top of the dresser, face looking as if it had been flattened in its infancy.

"It looks like an angry old man with a mustache."

“ _She_ looks like an angry old man with a mustache.” Bucky sits on the floor by the dresser, looking up patiently at the cat. The cat does not stop glaring at Steve for quite a while, finally deigning to groom a seemingly random spot on her back before hopping off of the dresser and walking out of the room.

"Where’d you find her?"

Bucky shrugs. “The pound. Sam took me today.”

"And.. where is Sam now?"

"Avoiding you while I tell you I got a cat."


	3. Birthday Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/90484786281/mellyblue007-birthday-prompt
> 
> "Steve’s birthday is this Friday, July 4. It’s his first birthday since having Bucky back and, of course, they get him a cake and put so many candles on it, it is likely to set off the smoke alarms. When the singing has ended, he closes his eyes and makes a wish before blowing out the candles…"
> 
> Rated PG for being a complete bummer.

"What’d you wish for?"

"For friends that aren’t so ageist," Steve says, gesturing to the top of the cake. Where Tony even managed to find miniature people with canes, walkers and wheelchairs is beyond him.

Clint starts cutting it up and serving while Natasha pulls Steve aside to show him a media text she got from Pepper, who’s away on business: it’s a small vanilla cupcake with red, white and blue icing and a small American flag on the top. Steve smiles. The modern tradition of sending pictures instead of simply saying ‘happy birthday’ is an odd one, but the sentiment isn’t lost at all.

An hour later, when Steve’s opened the (mostly ridiculous) presents and is getting a headache from the fireworks, he heads back inside to the kitchen. The cake is only half-eaten, and he starts arranging slices in tupperware containers and putting them in the refridgerator. He leaves one slice out, a corner piece with more icing, and plucks the plastic toys off of the top before putting it on a plate and adding a fork and napkin.

He takes the elevator to the apartments, kneeling down and laying the cake on the floor outside of the last door on the left. He knocks gently, walks back down the hall, and goes to bed.


	4. Sickness Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/90482147826/ticktockclockwork-prompt
> 
> "Sick Bucky -> Steve plays nurse -> steve ends up sick too."
> 
> Rated G for ESPN mentions.

"It’s not fair," Bucky groans, and covers himself entirely in the two duvets (Steve still doesn’t know where he got the second one).

"Well, the next time we go to Asgard, I’ll be sure to bring some Airborne."

Bucky’s head, hair already a mess, pokes out briefly. “Airborne what?”

Steve shakes his head. “It’s - it’s a medication to prevent you from getting sick. Never mind.” He sighs, arranging the bottles of water on the nightstand and moving the box of tissues over as well. “Thor says it’s just a cold. Drink lots of water, okay?”

"M’not thirsty."

"You’re just as bad as you were when we were kids." Steve sits down on the edge of the bed, punching the lumpy part of the blanket that is Bucky’s calf. "C’mon. Drink at least two of those things by lunch, and I’ll sit and watch some ESPN with you."

"You don’t *like* ESPN."

"Which is why I’m not doing it unless you drink at least two bottles of water."

**

Steve isn’t completely surprised when his door opens that night, and Bucky shuffles in wearing pajama pants and an enormous hoodie. Bucky always got really clingy when he was sick.

The hoodie zipper is cold against Steve’s back, but he puts up with it, giving up some of the blankets and huffing out a tired sigh.

**

Three days later, Bucky’s knocking, and when Steve lets him in he’s got a tray with breakfast.

"I can’t eat that right now," Steve says thickly, around more mucus than he thought was possible.

"It’s a glass of orange juice and half a grapefruit."

"I’m not hungry."

"You *love* grapefruit." Bucky kicks at Steve’s shins until Steve makes an acquiescing gesture. Bucky sets the tray on the desk and looking around the room with his hands on his hips.

"Are those mission reports?"

Steve shrugs a shoulder and scrubs some of the sleep out of his eyes. “Might as well get something done while I’m like this.”

"Uh-uh. Get in bed, start nibbling. I’m taking those folders with me and you’re not getting them back until you can say ‘m’s right."

"I can say ‘m’s fine."

"Say ‘dummy’."

”..dubbie.”

"Fuck you, Rogers. Lay down."


	5. MerSteve Prompts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A collection of the merSteve drabbles so far.
> 
> The origin of the AU:
> 
> "[okay but MerSteve who was little bitty skinny merman but gets legs to go after Bucky and also a shitton of muscle in the process and is just like 'this is unnecessary but I can't really complain' and merErskine is like 'you're welcome'](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/90165711181/okay-but-mersteve-who-was-little-bitty-skinny-merman)"
> 
> The general tag, which goes some way to flesh out the weird AU idea: http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/tagged/mersteve
> 
> Bluandorange's adorable gel pen sketch of the ship: http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/90276670010/excuse-me-while-i-exploit-my-excessive-amount-of

<http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/90479739106/prompts-bluandorange-mersteve> -- "MerSteve’s first week on land as a strapping v. attractive human man person thing"

Steve has a LOT of concerns - that he won’t be able to track down the 107th, that he’s missing key human qualities that someone will notice… actually, that’s the biggest worry. He knows that human men have body hair and facial hair on their cheeks and chin and throat as a secondary sex characteristic, but his hair never grows in. Not on his face, or his arms, or his chest, or his bizarre legs - he’s not sure if that can pass as normal, and finds himself staring at other men’s forearms and chins to see if there are smooth-skinned humans. He only ever got really close to Bucky, and Bucky got a light dusting of fur on his skin in various places by the time he was 14 or so. The men don’t seem to like being looked at closely, so he has to stop.

But nobody notices HIS strangeness. They stare at him anyway, though, because Erskine made him so TALL, because he’s much broader than nearly all of them, and to be fair, he’s asking a lot of questions.

Steve starts worrying he’s missing social cues. At first he thinks they can’t be flirting because they don’t offer him anything, no small trinkets, no invitations to comb their hair, but he learns he’s sorely mistaken when a village girl who said she needed help carrying something upstairs pulls him into her bedroom instead, tugs him onto the mattress, and he has to scramble back onto his awkward new legs and apologize and run.

He stays with an American regiment just outside the Italian border, and makes friends with some of the enlisted. They like that he’s never heard any of their dirty jokes before, that he’s a little naive but laughs once the punchlines are explained to him. When they filter out one by one, and the last one offers to share his tent, Steve misunderstands, says yes, gets pinned down and kissed within an inch of his life before he can squirm back and utter a pathetic “No, please”. The guy jumps off like he’s been burned, spitting apologies, and Steve readjusts his giant human-style shirt explaining that he liked it but there’s someone else. The human seems to understand, lets him stay in the tent, apologizes some more. Steve’s sad to leave him the next day, but he’s excited too. He’s just a short journey from his destination now. Bucky Barnes. Italy. He’s close. He’ll be so surprised to see him.

 

<http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/90610520701/if-youre-still-doing-the-drabble-thing-can-i-ask-for> -- "a continuation of that merman-Steve finding Bucky"

Bucky’s had dreams about waking up against warm flesh and cool scales, but when it happens, he kind of doesn’t know what to make of it.

"Weren’t you-" Bucky sits up, pulling the mess of blankets off the two medcots that have been pushed together. Steve, this huge new Steve with broad shoulders and the jaw and the same huge blue eyes, sits up, pulling his arm away. His tail unwraps from Bucky’s legs.

"I was human-shaped," Steve confirms quickly, because it’s clear Bucky’s grip on reality is still a little tenuous. "When I got you out. When we walked back."

Bucky stares at Steve’s body. He’s still wearing a singlet, but his trousers are cast aside, the stolen helmet and shield propped against the cot. His tail is… thicker, now, the scales less cloudy and the teals and blues shining in the dim light. Bucky feels vaguely dizzy.

"It’s surreal," he admits after some time.

Steve looks down. “I know.” He takes a deep breath, quirking his head in the gesture Bucky recognizes as are-you-mad-at-me. “Erskine made it so I could change back and forth, but… I’m always… big, now. Like this.” He gestures to himself with the hand not propping him up.

Bucky concentrates on getting his body language right, leaning in a little bit and tucking his chin into his shoulder. “I’ll get used to it,” he murmurs. “But not before I get some more rest.”

"Does that mean I can curl up around you again?" Steve’s smile is tiny and hopeful.

 

<http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/90560869141/thunderboltsortofapenny-mersteve-prompt> -- "clint meets mersteve"

Bucky really, really doesn’t know what goes wrong at first - Clint returns from a mission in Belarus about a week after he and Steve move into the Tower. Clint makes some jokes about how the pool has been drained and replaced with salt water, Steve asks him about how he met Natasha, and that weird and world-hopping story is enough to get them going in a very human conversation with real, spoken words.

(Steve still cants his head just so to say ‘go on, I’m listening’, but Clint’s smart, and he picks up on it.)

After a few days, though, Bucky realizes that every time Clint walks into a room Steve is *quietly seething*. What the hell happened? Nobody else notices, because Steve’s eyes only lid a little, his body language shifts to what Bucky’s called ‘angry fish’ since he was twelve, and… what the *hell* did Clint do?

It’s not until a movie night that he figures it out. Bucky’s sitting on the couch with Steve at his feet, absently finger-combing the gold strands of hair this way and that when it hits him. *Clint doesn’t groom Natasha*. They’re sitting side-by-side on the couch, Clint’s arm slung over the back of the couch, but no little comb, no finger-waves, nothing, not ever. (Not in public, anyway.) And of course Steve would have been in Natasha’s room and seen a complete lack of tiny baubles, no small presents given to her even though her boyfriend’s been back in town for about ten days now.

He pulls Steve into the kitchen. “You have to remember jerk behavior for merfolk isn’t necessarily jerk behavior for humans.”

Steve already knows what he’s talking about. “He didn’t even bring her back a *necklace*.”

Bucky gestures emphatically. “He doesn’t have to! He’s not some neglectful asshole boyfriend. I know what you’re used to, and I’m happy to give you every sparkly thing you could ever want, but you can’t hold everyone to the same standards.”

Steve stands there, pouting, but doesn’t argue.

"Besides. Do you really think Natasha’d stay with someone who she felt ignored by?"

Steve huffs. “I just think someone should be giving her jewelry.”


	6. OT4 H/C Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/90897436681/ticktockclockwork-answered-your-question-bored & http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/91203178281/bluandorange-replied-to-your-post
> 
> "The quartet gets really beat up, like cuts and blood and hurtness so everyone takes care of everyone else! Nat/Sam/Steve/Bucky hurt/comfort!"
> 
> Rated PG-13 for REFERENCES to ACTIVITIES.

Bucky’s never struggled with the idea of women being strong, but that notion never included women on the front lines until very, very recently. Seeing Natasha get injured sets him to hovering.

"Here," he says, and holds his arms out to carry her up the stairwell. She said her ankle might be fractured and has been favoring her other side.

Steve watches with not a little trepidation as she looks him up and down, considering the offer, before slinging an arm across his shoulders. He hefts her up and nods, taking the stairs two at a time.

"I’m feeling a little dizzy, Cap." Sam flutters his eyelashes at him a little, earning a snort from Natasha one floor up. "Maybe you could…?"

"If you’re not careful, buddy, I’ll call your bluff and fireman-carry you all the way to the roof. And you know Iron Man will make sure that gets onto Instagram.”

**

"So Natasha, do I get to carry you across thresholds now?"

"I was thinking of limiting pointless acts of chivalry to people born before the cure of polio, but I could definitely go for a grilled cheese and something cold from the fridge." Natasha smiles at Sam as Bucky lays her down on the couch, rearranging pillows until it’s elevated right. He finally strips out of his jacket and disarms, cracking his knuckles before taking her leg delicately in hand and inspecting it.

Sam smirks. “I don’t mind you playing favorites, Romanov. Just don’t be so damn obvious about it.”

Steve rolls his eyes, grabbing Sam by the midsection and fireman carrying him to the bathroom. “C’mon, you. I didn’t pick an apartment with a standing shower for nothing.”


	7. Sub!Steve Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/91201890841/prompt-sub-steve-no-pain-or-roleplaying-just-steve
> 
> "Prompt: Sub!Steve! No pain or roleplaying, just Steve needing to let go of his ill-gotten authority for once and dropping the mantle he wears, and Bucky wanting to remind himself that he can have another person before him in a vulnerable position without hurting them (doing exactly the opposite, in fact)."
> 
> Rated R? Idk. Pre-smex.

Steve realizes what Bucky wants to do when he comes out of the shower and sees the lights have been dimmed.

Bucky barely uncurls from his spot on the bed. Instead, he just shifts, not looking up from his book, making a tiny bit more space for Steve to curl up next to him. Steve lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, drying himself off and then laying down on top of the sheets, nose pressed gently against Bucky’s thigh.

Bucky doesn’t rush it, just runs his fingers through Steve’s hair for a while before finally putting the book on the nightstand. “Yeah?” he asks softly.

"Please," Steve answers, and Bucky stretches out, fingers curling gently around his wrists and arranging them against the headboard. Steve stays in place, eyes shutting, mouth opening as Bucky starts pressing kisses down his chest, his legs, up to the spot on his hipbone where Bucky knows he loves to feel teeth. Steve hisses when he feels the slow bite.

Bucky lets go, licks it better, and slides up, covering Steve’s body with his. He nuzzles Steve’s temple. “Gonna take care of you,” he murmurs, and leans on one leg so he can use the other to spread Steve’s apart.


	8. Pirate Captain Bucky/MerSteve Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spaceconfessional asked for [pirate captain Bucky and merSteve](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/92842546711/spaceconfessional-said-ok-ok-but-hear-me-out). Bucky doesn't start out as a captain, but it gets there.
> 
> Rated T I guess?

Bucky’s sure he woke up once before, sunburnt and dry-throated on a sandy beach. He remembers debris around him, splintered planks and the remains of a few barrels, but before he could crawl under one of the bigger pieces to get some relief from the heat, everything went dark again.

Now there’s soil under him - some kind of fern leaf is brushing against his face and he swats at it, groggy, mouth and throat wet as if he’s been drinking water. He starts to sit up and realizes the rushing sound isn't in his head. He’s next to a small stream.

"Lay back down," someone says, and he does. He can’t think clearly enough to think why not. Something in the stream moves, and then someone is tipping his head up a little, pushing a shell to his lips, water sloshing inside it. He opens his mouth, swallows, falls asleep again.

**

Bucky can’t pronounce the other boy’s name. There’s an “ee” sound in the middle, which he can manage, but the whole thing is a trill from beginning to end, and the tones are _important_ , like some Oriental language he can’t begin to fathom.

"How’d you get like that?"

The boy gives him a funny look. “Like what?”

"Like…" Bucky gestures to the tail, because it’s the most noticeable part of the whole thing. The scales, the fins on his spine, the gills.

"I was born like this.  _Your_ kind are strange." As if it’s perfectly normal, the boy reaches out of the stream and grabs Bucky’s foot, pulling the boot off and holding his big toe between two fingers. " _These_? Are strange. And they smell!" The boy drops the foot and makes a face.

"Well, you smell like seawater."

The boy rolls his eyes. “So what happened to your ship, anyway?”

"Our Captain got stupid…" With a French merchant ship that turned out to be a setup, but he knows better than to mention that part. Whatever this… _mecreature_ is… he probably won’t understand or care about the plight of an orphan stowaway. He’ll just see a thief. "The hull got damaged, and then the storm kicked up."

"Well, I haven’t found anybody else on any of the others, so you might be the only one that made it."

"The others? The other whats?"

"The other _islands_ ," the boy says patiently. "You’re on one of several small islands. I carried you inland so you could have some fresh water." He gestures down into the stream he’s sitting in. "Because you can’t drink seawater, right? It makes you sick?"

"Yeah," Bucky says thickly. "Yeah, we can’t drink seawater."

**

Bucky learns that he can eat lots of things raw without being sick. The boy brings him urchins and brightly colored fish and once an eel, which Bucky refuses, and watches with a disgusted expression as the boy eats it himself.

**

"Say it again."

Patiently, the boy says his name again. His gills unfurl slightly as he does so.

"I’m going to call you Steve, because that sound you just made is impossible."

**

Steve listens to his stories about the cities and villages. He likes the descriptions of meadows best, although Bucky doesn’t have many memories of those left - he was so young when his family was still alive, when they’d travel to places like that.

"It was like a carpet of flowers."

"What’s a carpet?"

Bucky rolls his eyes. “A _rug_.”

Steve jabs him. “What’s a _rug_ , then?”

**

Steve talks about currents and sunlight streaming down to touch warm shoals. Steve fixes Bucky’s bandages up again, another scrap of cloth Bucky knows he must’ve found floating around the wreckage of the ship, and Steve talks about his mother going south to warmer waters, to get better, Steve going out on his own. He shows Bucky the slim belt he wears slung over one shoulder, the little knife, the bone needle and thread, every little tool. Bucky turns the objects over and over in his hands and runs the pads of his fingers over the ridges of the cup-shaped shell.

**

The spines on Steve’s back are sensitive. The gills are off limits, but the spines are nice, unfurling and folding down again under Bucky’s hand. Steve makes a funny little sound and ducks his head away. Bucky’s breath catches in his throat.

**

Bucky starts to walk again, exploring a little ways but always staying near the stream. He finally gets around to bathing himself, and when he does, Steve has the nerve to just show up, climb up on a rock, and _watch_ , head cocked, like that’s a normal thing to do.

"Wh-" Steve makes a face. "What do you have hair _there_ for?"

"*Jesus!* Give a guy some privacy, would ya?" Bucky turns around and cuts his hand into the water, splashing it in Steve’s eyes. Steve flinches and scowls.

"Are all humans as thorny as you?"

"Are all merfolk as _nosy_ as you?"

"I’m not nosy, I’m naturally curious." Steve huffs and makes a point of turning around on the rock, gills frilling in irritation as he looks up at the treeline. "And it’s your good luck that I am, or I would’ve minded my own business and left you and your dumb legs and your stupid thicket of belly hair to rot in the sun."

Bucky grumbles something unrepeatable under his breath and starts cupping water onto his body to rinse off.

**

Steve’s scales feel smooth and wet, even when they’re out of the water. The moon’s out just enough that Bucky can see Steve’s eyes flutter shut when he strokes down his shoulders.

He’s just curious. They both are.

**

"So do you know where the mainland is?"

"Of course I do," Steve asks, as if Bucky had just asked if he could count all the way to twelve.

"How far is it?"

Steve turns in a seemingly random direction and points. “Half day good water, three quarters of a day bad water.”

"What the hell does that mean?"

"That’s how far it is," Steve says slowly. "If the water’s good, half a day. If the water’s bad, three quarters of a day. It doesn’t get very bad, so it’s only an extra quarter."

Bucky puts his face in his hands. “And that’s when you’re swimming, of course.”

"What else would it be?"

"I don’t know, some mode of transportation _I can actually use?_ "

Steve makes an irritated sound. “First, it’s not my fault you can only swim for a little while at a time. Second, don’t be stupid. I’ll just bring a rowboat over.”

"A rowboat?" Bucky drops the urchin he was eating.

"I’ll untie one from the docks. It’s not even stealing if I lead you to put it right back in its slip, really."

**

Steve swims back tugging a rowboat behind him, as promised, along with a small empty barrel to fill with fresh water. He also scrounged up a wooden box from somewhere, hinge rusted and lock long gone.

"What’s this for?" Bucky asks.

Steve shrugs. “We can go to the wreck first. I’ll bring up the stuff you’d want.”

Bucky’s eyebrows fly up. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Steve could just swim down and bring up Captain Pierce’s gold, the treasure, the… “You’d do that for me?”

"You guys trade coins for food and everything else, right? You should have coins."

**

Steve gets really quiet as he brings up armful after armful of wreckage. Coins, silver, anything that shines. Bucky doesn't have the heart to tell him that shiny doesn't always mean valuable, because Steve seems so bothered by something. Maybe there's bodies down there.

"I'm sorry about your friends," Steve says softly, after the third return trip.

"They weren't my friends." Bucky looks at the bottom of the boat, at his feet. "I hated them, actually."

"Oh." Steve looks back down at the water. "Okay."

**

Steve gets everything he can find from the wreck, and the sun's about to set. He offers to start tugging the rowboat toward the mainland, but Bucky says he's getting tired and he'd like to go rest first. They can always go tomorrow.

Bucky's finding he really doesn't know what he wants to go to the mainland for, anyway.

**

After pulling the boat up the stream and securing the line, Bucky pulls out the sealed bottle of rum and shares it with Steve, laying back with him in the lean-to by the shore and talking.

He knows it's a bad idea, but that's also kind of why he does it.

Steve grimaces at the taste and laughs, then tries some more, tail fin drifting lazily in the stream as he rolls onto his side to pass Bucky the jug. Bucky stares at his eyes too long. Steve grins.

**

Steve's mouth tastes sharp and metallic and Bucky can't get enough of the taste, tongue swiping in over and over until Steve groans underneath him and pushes him off to get a chance for air. Bucky thinks hazily that maybe Steve wants to _stop_ , so he gets off of him, tumbles to the side, licking his lips to see if there's any of Steve's taste left there. Steve pants and shivers and then reaches out, grabbing him by the open shirt to yank him back in. Bucky makes a surprised noise against Steve's mouth when he feels a long, slick tail wrap around his legs to keep him from getting too far away again.

**

**

**

**

**

**

**

Once they're anchored and the crews are between shifts, Bucky goes to the deck, moonlight giving him a faint shadow as he pulls up the starboard rowboat.

"Hi," Steve says, grinning as Bucky scoops him up and carries him to the Captain's quarters. Once he's got the door shut he presses a kiss to Steve's cheek, dropping him gently into a pile of blankets to dry off with. Steve shakes doglike and begins to pat himself dry.

"I missed you," Bucky says.

"I missed you too, dummy." Steve rolls himself up tightly and then unrolls, repeating the process with a second blanket before scrambling up into Bucky's bed with him. "Why did Spain take so long?"

"A long story that ends with me nearly murdering Hawk," Bucky mutters. "Not important. C'mere." Steve lets himself be pulled closer, flattening his fins as Bucky strokes his hand down his spine. Bucky brushes one spot in particular and Steve shudders, tipping his head up. "In a second. I want to show you something."

"Maps are boring," Steve informs Bucky, and untucks his shirt so he can trace the fine line of hair down his stomach.

"You'll like this. It's for you." Bucky squirms up into a sitting position, reaching over to the table next to the bed and pulling a small wooden box into his lap. Steve watches, head tilted, as Bucky opens the latch and begins to pull out strings of pearls.

Steve's eyes widen immediately.

"I knew you'd like them. There's earrings, too... I was thinking we could bend the hooks and pin them to your belt. If you wanted." Bucky folds the long string in half, then thirds, reaching out and laying them across Steve's thin shoulders. The longest strand hangs off his shoulder like a fancy dress. He's blushing. "There's some sapphires, too. Pendants."

"Bucky. You didn't have to-"

"I  _want_ to."

Steve's face is beet red as he smiles. "You gotta keep  _some_ of this stuff to pay your men."

"Oh, that's what the coins are for. And everything else we get that isn't good jewelry or books."

" _There are books too!?_ "


	9. Darcy & Bucky Animal Shelter Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trekkiemage asked for [Darcy & Bucky at the animal shelter](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/92272384611/trekkiemage-replied-to-your-post-writing).
> 
> Rated T for Totally cute pets.

Darcy, for whatever reason, is really, really good with Bucky. She doesn’t pity him, doesn’t hover, doesn’t seem to ever have a single flinch or twitch or oh-god-you-used-to-be-a-tool-of-murderers glance in his direction. Her priorities are something like Flappy Bird, Starbucks, finishing the copyedit of Jane’s latest test report, and naps. In that order.

"Field trip," she says one day, when Bucky is actively  _not_  staring into empty space in a deck chair. There’s almost nothing sadder than Bucky doing his best not to be sad, the majority of the Tower is in agreement with this, but Darcy just sits on Bucky’s legs and pokes him in the chest. “Field. Trip. Field trip. Fieeeld trip.”

Bucky flinches away and makes a face. “Where do you want to go.” He acts duty-bound to take her out when she wants to go somewhere. Maybe it’s because he comes from a time when men accompanied women on ventures Out Into the World, or because she’s one of the few people around here who would actually need protecting if something happened. It’s not clear.

"The pound. Get some shoes on. I've got the address on my Googly Maps."

"I think it’s called Google Maps. And." Bucky looks down at his legs. "You gotta get off me first."

**

The volunteers at the pound actually don’t ask any questions when they come in - one of the strange benefits of Bucky looking like the thousand-yard-stare war veteran that he is. (Just not the way people think.)

The place is noisy, little yips and barks echoing through the rooms, but Bucky doesn't seem to be too bothered. He walks by several cages, ignoring the tiny black noses pressing between the bars, the little pink tongues licking the air like they can reach him if they try hard enough. There’s a mutt further on, curled up on himself and sporting a nasty surgery scar running up his hip. Bucky kneels down, frowning.

Darcy pulls herself away from a hopping Pomeranian to go see what he’s up to. She pulls the small card out out of the front of the cage and reads. “This dog does not have a name yet. He is about 4 years old and was hit by a car in January. Kind-hearted donors put together the money to fix his hip, but he is still looking for his forever home.”

"He was  _hit by a car?_ ”

"Looks like."

"People do surgery on pets? On  _strays?_ ”

"If they can afford it." Darcy puts the card back in its slot and looks down. "You alright? Wanna come see the kittens?"

Bucky is still looking at the mutt.

"C’mon. You need kitten time."

There aren’t actually many kittens. There are lots of adult cats, sleeping in perfect circles in their glass-front cubbies. Two sibling cats named ‘Mickey’ and ‘Minnie’ are grooming each other, clearly disinterested in any humans at the moment. There’s an unnamed calico female who’s pacing, eyes locked on the two of them, watching their movements.

Bucky walks over, pressing a fingertip against the glass. She tucks her head down and presses in, like she’s trying to will the skritch to her forehead to make it through the glass. “She liiikes you,” Darcy murmurs, and Bucky smiles.

A volunteer comes in and offers to let them see her. Darcy pretends she’s going to hold her until the last minute, when she steps back and the volunteer makes a confused face and offers her out to Bucky. He takes her and the cat trills inquisitively, face immediately pressing in to his stubble to rub and smell.

"Her owner, um, died," the volunteer says awkwardly. "We don’t know about any behavior problems, and she’s had all her shots. She was the only pet in the home, so we’re not sure how she is with, um." The volunteer seems slightly alarmed that the cat’s back claws are digging in to Bucky’s left arm for traction and Bucky doesn’t seem to notice or care. "She might do well, with, um. Other cats? Kittens? Dogs? Kids? We haven’t tested yet."

Bucky readjusts his grip, unbothered when the cat reaches up to put a paw on his mouth as if to tell him to be quiet. “She’s. Nice.”

**

Bucky did not know that some cats drooled when they were happy, but oh, does he learn. The warm weight of her curled up on his chest when he’s asleep is nice,  _different_ , and even if she wandered off before he wakes up, there’s always a tell-tale splotch of happy cat drool somewhere on his shirt.

(Dodger is even less subtle. He sleeps on the floor at the foot of the bed where Bucky can’t see, but the guy snores like a firetruck.)


	10. Domestic Bucky Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feanorinleatherpants asked for [domestic fluff with Bucky](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/92088449366/domestic-bucky-drabble).
> 
> Rated G.

When Steve comes into the common room, he has to stop for a moment, schooling his features into nonchalance.

"I thought," he said carefully, "that you sent Natasha out to get you a plant."

Bucky nods - a minute, blink-and-you-miss-it movement. He’s gazing with weird intensity at an orchid that’s been set on the only available space on the media center. He looks back to the window, then to the orchid. He finally picks it up and moves it to the coffee table with the small cactus.

" _A_  plant," Steve reiterates, stepping around the potted… bush… of some sort… and sitting down on the couch. Bucky tracks the movement, seems to realize that someone sitting in Steve’s place wouldn’t be able to see through the orchid to the television, and picks it up again. Moves it to the kitchen table.

"I did." Bucky’s voice is rusty with disuse. "She got… a lot." There’s silence for a while, as Steve watches Bucky flip through a small plant book, read, and then move to gather up the succulents and put them closer to the window. Then, to the coffee table, surrounding the small cactus. His gaze flickers up to Steve as if to ask if this is okay.

Steve shrugs. “There’s still room for the remote and a few drinks. I think it’s fine.”

Bucky nods and picks the book up again. Reads. Focuses his sights on the medium-sized plant with long, thin, flat leaves.

"I don’t think I know that one," Steve remarks.

"Spider plant."

Steve grins. “You should name it Natasha.”

Bucky scowls. “Naming plants is dumb.”

"Okay."

"I’m also _not_  talking to them."

"I think they debunked that anyway."

Bucky nods curtly and puts the book down. He picks it up by its hook, looking around for somewhere to hang it, but the ceilings in the Tower are both ridiculously high and completely devoid of any fixtures other than lighting.

"We can ask Tony to install someplace for it," Steve says. "Or maybe it could go in your room."

"My room’s already full."

Steve tries not to look alarmed.


	11. Seeb Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Anon asked for seeb.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/94114192876/seeb) (For those who don't know what that means: [at least the first couple chapters of this are required reading.](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1792459/chapters/3842503))
> 
> Rated super G.

“ _Seeb_.”

Steve feels a tiny, slightly sticky hand smack gently on his forehead; he flinches sleepily and looks up to see Todd’s happy face. He is on the comforter, sitting with legs crossed and leaning forward. Steve rubs his eyes.

"…how’d you get out of your crib, buddy?"

"Todd?" Bucky’s voice is quiet outside, trying to be loud enough to be heard without being loud enough to wake up the others in the hall. Steve looks over and notices the door is slightly ajar. It opens further, and Bucky peeks in, eyes narrowing when he sees Todd. " _There_  you are.”

"Foun’ Seeb," Todd reports proudly.

”I said he was  _asleep_ , not  _lost_.”

"Not aseep." Todd tumbles forward to hug Steve’s bicep, snuggling it a moment before clambering to sit up and haul at the arm as if to pull Steve out of bed. "Park peas!"

Steve groans. “What time is it?”

"Six _,_ " Bucky says sympathetically. He’s always been an a brief sleeper and an early riser, and has been the one to handle the early mornings of toddlerhood. Steve had a full hour of sleep left and he  _wanted_  it, damn it.

"Park peas."

"Todd, it’s too early for the park." Steve rubs Todd’s head as he squirms deeper into the warm nest of the covers. Todd makes an unhappy sound.

"C’mon, buddy, let’s go watch cartoons."

Bucky’s words go ignored as Todd wriggles on the bed, clearly trying to work out a way to get his wish.

"Cartoons den park?"

"Steve’s sleepy," Steve mumbles into his pillow. "Steve had a debrief last night."

The bed dips as Bucky crawls on just far enough to gather up the kid, and Steve hears the trilling giggle that means Todd is being picked up and twirled around into a fireman’s carry. The bed rises back up as Bucky heads back out to the hallway.

"Get some sleep, punk."

"Thanks, jerk."


	12. Angst Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obsessionisasecondskin asked for [something angsty](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/94116442861/obsessionisasecondskin-answered-your-post).
> 
> Rated PG-13 for depressing PTSD fic.

Sam says it’s not unheard of, not something they can do much about, but it drives Steve up the wall.

Bucky wakes up and sits at the foot of his bed, legs drawn up, not moving. He doesn’t come eat until Steve asks him to. He doesn’t seem to taste the food. He retreats back to his room and sits on the floor in the corner and closes his eyes. He sits. He just sits.

Steve can’t get him to talk. He can get him to eat, and to shower, and to strip and hold still when they have to change the bandages, but Bucky won’t talk. He won’t make eye contact. Steve feels like he wants to die.

"He talked on the helicarrier," he says to Sam, when they’re in the car. "He responded to what I said. He talked."

"He’s kind of in shock, man." Sam pulls the wheel left and out of the parking lot, back home. The groceries rattle in the back. "We gotta take what we can get."

**

Steve cooks some old recipes and Bucky eats them with no reaction. Steve plays some old music and Bucky actually leaves the room, abandoning his dinner plate and heading to his room early. Steve’s hand trembles as it hits the button with the square on it, stops the music, sits on the couch because he can’t quite trust himself to make it back to the dining table across the room.

**

Bucky’s skin is warm and scarred under his hands. The wounds are almost closed now. Steve wraps the new tape around Bucky’s ribs and secures it. Bucky is staring at the window. The blinds are drawn.

**

"Do you remember" doesn’t work, ever. Steve changes tack and goes for "I remember." He never stays too long on one subject, in case Bucky doesn’t remember, or doesn’t care. Steve just drops a sentence or two here or there. "I remember when we used to go to the cinema together, we always shared a popcorn because we couldn’t afford two." Bucky continues to stare to the left of the television. "I remember when we had an art class together and you kept drawing the girl across the room instead of the flower in the vase." Bucky doesn’t look up. "I remember when we spent Christmas together after my ma died. It didn’t snow, it was just damn cold." Nothing. Every day another try. Steve feels like he’s dying slowly.

**

Sam goes to New York to visit his family; they’ve been worried about him since everything happened. Steve promises he’ll water the plants and Sam looks at him like he’s out of his mind.

Bucky comes out on his own, but he still just sits. He sits, but he doesn’t face the wall, and he’s out in the main room where the television is on. Steve switches it away from the news and onto an old movie (relatively speaking) that looks innocuous enough. After an hour Bucky gets up and goes back to his room. Steve doesn’t know what happened or what changed.

It happens again the next day. Steve gets up and pours a glass of water, putting it next to him. After another twenty minutes he gets an apple, but Bucky doesn’t touch it. Steve walks across the room and sits back down.

"They said you were dead."

Steve’s heart stops. “What?”

"They woke me up, and they told me it was 1954. They said you were dead." His voice sounds cracked and dry and awful. His hair curtains his face. His face is tilted toward the floor, unmoving, like a marionette with a cut string. "They said nobody was coming to get me. They said they won. You were dead. Nobody knew I was alive. No-one was coming. I was dead. I was dead and they made me live even though I was dead."

Steve is trying to process this, trying to get through the shock of Bucky’s voice, and then Bucky is getting to his feet.

"You want me to live too, but I’m dead."

Bucky disappears around the corner, back to his room.


	13. Grinding Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nick-furys-bazooka asked for [Steve and Bucky learning about grinding](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/94118434661/nick-furys-bazooka-answered-your-post-prompts). I'm pretty sure she meant the dance, but oh well.
> 
> Rated... well. You can guess.

Steve nearly jumps as Bucky’s hips snap up into his, hard, out of the awkward rhythm they’d found. Bucky’s mouth is hanging open almost as if he’s in pain, and then Bucky is slumping back, eyes still shut, panting harshly in the stale apartment air.

"Whadja stop for?" Steve breathes, looking down at his friend. Bucky’s undershirt has ridden up a few inches, and Steve wants to touch the skin there, not really sure why. It looks sweaty, which should be unpleasant.

"Just came harder’n…" Bucky coughs. "C’mon, keep going. Finish." His hands reach up and curl around Steve’s hips, dwarfing them, encouraging them to move back down again. Steve does, but as soon as he brushes over Bucky’s crotch the other boy flinches away, scooting back a few inches on the floorboards. "Jes- okay, never mind, not there, too sensitive, just…" Steve is pushed back a few inches until he’s straddling one of Bucky’s thighs. Steve shifts awkwardly until Bucky shifts his leg, brushing against Steve’s - it’s -

"Nnn," Steve says emphatically, and plants both hands on the floor, rutting desperately. Bucky’s breaths are still coming out harsh and for some reason that’s riling him up further. He’s never felt like this. He should feel silly for moving so frantically, it’s so much more embarrassing somehow now that it’s just him, but Bucky’s fingertips are digging into his hips, his mouth looks  _shiny_ , and Steve feels fit to burst and so he keeps moving, keeps fighting down the urge to wheeze, this is the best thing they’ve ever discovered and he’ll be damned if his bad chest screws it up. “B- _Bucky-_ ”


	14. Incapacitated Steve Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lilacblossoms asked for [“Steve gets grievously injured in a fight and Sam, Natasha, and Bucky have to drag his useless ass to safety”](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/94119532026/lilacblossoms-asked-for-steve-gets-grievously), and I took some liberties and tweaked it. Sorry, lilacblossoms.
> 
> Rated PG because someone's technically drugged.

The strap Bucky’s hauling Steve by is digging into his chest, and his chest hurts, but he giggles anyway, head tipped back and looking at the heavy dart Bucky’s carrying in his other hand.

"Yer gonna keep it?" Steve asks, strangely delighted by the idea.

“ _Need_  it,” Bucky growls, looking overhead as a birdlike silhouette hovers above them. Sam must have signaled something, because suddenly Bucky is rolling left, digging his boots into the ground and hauling Steve with him, and for some reason that’s really funny. Steve bursts out in a fit of laughter.

"I’m a wagon," Steve says.

"You’re fucking  _drunk_ ,” Bucky snaps, and pulls out a Derringer to take out the three men behind the totaled Jeep. It takes four shots instead of three, and Bucky seems annoyed about that.

”Good job,” Steve chirps, because Bucky should feel good about himself.

"Ffffff." Bucky grabs him (somewhat meanly!) by the strap at his shoulder and begins pulling him again, toward the Quinjet. There’s a sound overhead, a new one, and Steve wrenches his head backwards to see the familiar blur of Tony.

"Calvary," Steve singsongs. He can’t see it from how he’s angled, but he hears repulsor blasts, so he assumes A.I.M. is losing even more than it was a few minutes ago.

"How’s he doing?" That’s Natasha. When did Natasha get here? She’s walking alongside Bucky, and Steve tries to tell her hello, but he gets distracted by how orange and straight her hair is and just sort of makes a gurgling sound instead.

"Dart," Bucky says, and hands it to her. She takes it. "A couple slashes. They’re fine.  _That_ , though.” He jerks his chin toward the green pointy thing she’s holding and then Steve’s not sure what he says, because his hearing goes funny.

"Bruce?" She asks.

Bucky nods. “If you can find him.”

"Hair," Steve informs her helpfully.


	15. Barbershop Quartet 'Cheating' Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bluandorange asked for [an outside observer confusing the ot4 as one person dating/cheating on three different people](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/94190972071/bluandorange-answered-outside-observer-confuses). I needed an OC to make this work, so if you're allergic to those, stay back.
> 
> Rated PG for assumed infidelity. Gasp!

Kelly’s pretty sure the red-haired woman doesn't work in any of the offices in the building. She always comes in from the street, not the elevator, and she doesn't come in just before 9 to order something to go, or around lunch, or just after 5. She comes in whenever, and she always sits by the big window that overlooks the street, sipping her coffee and eating her pastry.

Kelly thinks she’s really pretty.

Sometimes the woman comes in every other day, and sometimes she doesn’t come in for several weeks. There’s no rhyme or reason to it as far as Kelly can tell, but what really shocks her is when she comes in WITH someone.

And the guy is FIT.

The woman orders her usual two-sugars coffee, and the guy stutters and orders a black one. He’s six feet tall and built like a Mack truck. Blond hair, big blue eyes, long lashes. Red-haired woman snatched up a good one. Kelly stifles her disappointment at the woman’s possible heterosexuality and plugs in the order, takes the exact change, and watches as they both sit at the woman’s usual table.

Maybe they’re not dating. The guy’s spine is ramrod straight, hands on the counter and folded over each other like he’s at an interview or something. She’s not so nervous, though. She never is. In fact, she’s grinning at him. Maybe he’s a coworker she’s trying to seduce.

Get it, red-haired lady.

Over the next couple weeks the woman comes in alone and with blond guy in about equal measures. The guy’s body language relaxes a little over time; he smiles when she makes jokes, and he even makes a couple jokes of his own. Kelly can’t hear them, but he’s got this goofy smile on like he’s proud of himself for coming up with it, and Kelly has to hide her expression behind the counter because OH MY GOD.

Maybe she’ll finally bag him and they’ll have little strawberry blond babies and they’ll come in with strollers one day. Kelly wants that.

She comes up with a backstory in her head. They work at a gym together. (Why else would they look like that?) Blond guy is new and the woman’s been showing him around. Blond guy’s working up the courage to seal the deal but he hasn’t yet.

Days pass. The shop gets these new little berry tarts that are the cutest most scrumptious looking things ever and if Kelly wasn’t cutting back her sugar intake, she would be all. Over. Them. When the woman comes in to order a coffee Kelly gathers up her courage and points to the display, asking her if she’d like to try one. The woman grins and says yes, asking for the biggest size. YES, Kelly thinks. Treat yourself. Those things look amazing.

Five minutes later a gorgeous black guy with a gap-tooth smile comes up and asks if it’s too late to order a breakfast wrap. Kelly lies and says no. (Jake’s working the grill today. He’ll forgive her.)

When the guy’s coffee order comes up he gets it from Jamal and heads over to the woman’s table. He SITS DOWN. She SMILES AT HIM. They start talking and when the guy’s food order comes, the woman cuts her tart in half and puts half of it on his breakfast wrap plate. He smiles and makes a show of eating the raspberry on top super delicately.

WHAT HAPPENED TO BLOND GUY?

Kelly stifles the indignant spike. This is not her life. Maybe blond guy wasn’t a good match. Maybe it all just fizzled. But he was SO SWEET. He held the door for the woman, and for random people too, not just the one he wanted to get with. He always thanked Jamal when he got up and took the coffees. Blond guy was a good dude.

Gap tooth guy is the new dude. He’s relaxed and grinning and he probably didn’t have nearly as hard a time finding the guts to take the next step. He looks like he loves steps. Steps are his favorite. Kelly sighs morosely and rearranges the sodas in the display fridge.

More days pass. The woman comes in on her own a few times and Kelly resists the urge to ask what happened. It’s not her business.

She’s completely unprepared when the woman comes in and orders two coffees, with the blond man in tow. He’s smiling easily like everything’s normal.

WHAT?

Kelly puts in the order and takes the exact change. Hands over the receipt. Blond guy looks fine. He doesn’t look like a guy who’s been dumped and is trying resolutely to ‘just be friends’. He has NO IDEA.

This woman is evil.

Kelly keeps herself chill when they sit down together, talking easily as if everything is cool. The woman makes a joke and he laughs, and he makes a (dumb?) joke and she grins, just a little. Jamal catches Kelly watching and tsks.

When they leave, blond guy holds the door for her. He also holds the door for the two old ladies tottering out. Oh. Blond guy.

Change is life, Kelly reminds herself. She psychs herself up so that two days later, when the woman shows up and orders another large berry tart, Kelly knows she’s gonna share it with gap tooth guy and she’s ready for it.

There he is, five minutes later and smiling when it’s his turn in line. He compliments Kelly’s new haircut in a nice, non-creepy way. He stuffs a dollar into the tip jar. Gap tooth guy seems like a good dude.

Kelly realizes with a painful thud that gap tooth guy has no idea he’s The Other Guy.

THIS WOMAN.

It goes back and forth like that, blond and gap-toothed, about once a week, to the point where Kelly’s just jaded and unaffected by it. It’s not her business to say anything. She doesn’t know the whole story. Or even part of it, really. She’s surprised when blond guy comes in one day and asks for the woman’s drink order to go.

"Your girlfriend’s stuck in the office?" Kelly asks evenly, feeling like the world’s best super spy. It’s so innocuous, but his response will be telling.

The tips of his ears go pink. VERY telling. “She’s laid up,” he says, looking uncomfortable. “I mean, she’s, she’s fine, she’s just got a broken leg and she could use some cheering up.”

Kelly nods and punches in the order. How sad. This guy is trying to get her a treat and she’s got a treat on the side he doesn’t have a clue about.

What really takes the cake is when gap tooth guy comes in the next day with the same order. They must both be smitten. Poor dudes.

The woman comes back in a week later like nothing’s changed. Kelly can’t even detect a difference in her walk - maybe she never had a broken leg? She might be a compulsive liar. Or a hypochondriac. (Do hypochodriacs think they get broken bones, or just weird illnesses? Kelly will have to look into that.)

It’s a slow Wednesday that takes the cake, though.

It’s pouring outside, which means not many customers. The people in the office buildings across the street stay in and order sandwiches from the bigger places that deliver. Kelly couldn’t hear a pin drop, not exactly, but Jamal’s mopping across the shop and Kelly can tell his iPod is playing Beyonce.

The door swings open and the woman walks in, taking her hood down. She gestures to the right, and the man coming in behind her, who’s hunched over like he’s got a warrant for his arrest, turns the way she pointed and takes the chair in the corner.

A third dude. JEEZ.

The woman comes to the counter. “One coffee two sugars, one coffee black, a club wrap, and one of every sandwich.”

Kelly's fingertips hover over the register. “We have … eight sandwiches.”

She just nods and pulls out her wallet, putting down a $100 bill. Kelly blinks and make sure to punch in every item before taking it. The woman stuffs the change into her purse without counting it and sits down.

Kelly watches them from between the cookie displays. It’s difficult - the guy is looking in all directions, twitchy, and Kelly thinks maybe THIS one knows. He knows he’s The Other Other Guy. He’s waiting for gap tooth guy and/or blond guy to bust in at any moment and beat him up for being with their girl. (Could he take them? It’s hard to tell underneath all those layers and that sad grey hoodie.) But he’s rooted there, unable to leave, because he’s so desperately in love with Evil Seductress Woman.

The coffee order comes up and the woman gets up to get the cups. The guy looks beyond nervous. Miserable, too. He barely touches his coffee at first and then he starts downing it like it’s the best thing he’s ever had. Kelly wastes time checking stock and refilling the display fridge. When the food order’s up, the woman gets up again to get it, carrying both trays over to the table and sliding them in front of the guy. He just stares at them. She pulls the wrap out of the foil and starts to eat.

It’s so weird. He sits there and cautiously takes a bite of everything in front of him, and it takes like an hour. When he finishes half of the roast beef the woman acts like it’s some big deal, holding his hand across the table and smiling at him warmly. Kelly’s never seen that smile before. This is so weird.

She has no idea how to contextualize this anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (8/19/14 edit) Further adventures of Kelly [in this chapter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1925544/chapters/4736061).


	16. The Kind You Save Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> culturevirgin asked for [Post WS, Sam apologizes to Bucky for saying he wasn’t the kind you save. Bucky: Yeah, but you did it anyway.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/94191193846/culturevirgin-answered-post-ws-sam-apologizes-to) I kinda sorta got it right.
> 
> Rated PG for mild robot violence and related injuries.

culturevirgin answered: Post WS, Sam apologizes to Bucky for saying he wasn’t the kind you save. Bucky: Yeah, but you did it anyway.

"Doom’s robot did a number on it," Bucky’s muttering under his breath, barely audible over the gunfire around the corner. Finally, Bucky starts helping Sam sit up, getting him gingerly out of the gear that keeps his wings attached. "Sorry, pal. There’s no fixing them; gotta drop the dead weight."

Sam’s vision swims a little as he lets himself be manhandled, and even when he thunks back against the wall, things still seem to move around him. He looks down at his twisted ankle. That wasn’t his best landing, but he’s pretty sure he’ll be back on his feet in a few weeks. Assuming he makes it out. “I think I’m dead weight too,” he says.

Bucky holds his gaze a moment, then nods, but he doesn’t take his sidearms. He just pulls him deeper into the crevice and makes sure he’s not gonna tip over, pulls the broken wingpack into his lap, and starts fiddling with it, pushing a few buttons and then getting to his feet. “Stay there,” he says.

Sam watches as Bucky activates the jets on it, aiming it in the general direction of the walking eye. The thing is suitably confused by the sudden off-kilter projectile, and it gives Bucky enough time to get closer and use his arm to rip open a panel and pull out some important-looking wires. The thing staggers and collapses, and Bucky uses it as cover while he takes out the other bots.

Sam watches until his vision goes fuzzy, and then he shuts his eyes. That’s a mistake, because he drifts off, which means the gash in his shoulder must be a lot worse than he thought.

When he wakes up, it’s because Bucky’s boot is nudging his good leg. Sam looks up blearily to see Bucky leading something that looks like a floating storage bin.

"Found this thing in the R&D room," he says gruffly. "Get in; we’ll get you back to the jet and Sharon can start fixing you up."

Sam isn’t quite good enough to get into the thing on his own, but Bucky helps with no comments. Sam lets himself be carted back toward the plane for a few moments before deciding he should say it.

"Y’know, I used to be really wrong about you."

"Yeah?" Bucky’s looking off in the distance, to where a dark blue speck is waving them over. Bucky’s waving back. "That makes two of us."


	17. Barbershop Quartet 'Cheating' Prompt II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got a lot of positive feedback about [the Barbershop Quartet 'Cheating' Prompt](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1925544/chapters/4589082), and the OC in it, so here's a continuation of that!

"Hi," Kelly says, because she has no idea what else to say to a guy who looks like his turn to order is comparable to being on the firing line.

"H-" He shuts his mouth and starts again, pushing his hair away from his face and looking resolutely at the counter. "A black coffee. And a coffee with two sugars."

"Okay." She starts punching it in. He’s REALLY nervous. Maybe he’s on the spectrum or something. He looks like he doesn’t know if he’s doing this right. "Seven thirty-six."

He pulls a credit card out of his pocket (just out of his pocket? He doesn’t have a wallet?) and puts it on the counter, hesitant, like he’s not sure if that’s the right thing to give. Who IS this guy? Red Haired Lady’s Other Other Guy is such a mystery.

Kelly takes the card and swipes it. “It worked,” she says, because it seems like the kind of thing he would benefit from hearing. His shoulders actually slump a little in relief. “You can sit back down, and we’re gonna call out your order when it’s ready.”

He nods, like this is new information that he appreciates. He goes and sits back down with the red haired lady, who brushes his leg under the table and leans in. Kelly guesses she’s telling him he did a good job.

Kelly sells power bars to the yoga ladies who are next in line and gives her feet a break, balancing on the wobbly stool by the soda fountain and working on her super spy moves. The mystery couple don’t seem to notice when her gaze lingers on them, taking in the details. Other Other Guy is fiddling with his gloves. Red Haired Lady is talking in a quiet voice.

"So," Jamal says, taking more time than he needs to add two sugars to the order, "first she comes in with the Abercrombie model."

"Yep," Kelly confirms.

"Then it’s the brother."

"Yep."

"Now this basket case."

"Don’t call him that!"

"Am I wrong?"

"It’s… mean."

Jamal fixes Kelly with a look. “He’s a very CUTE basket case. I hope he gets better and debaskets as soon as possible. Still a basket case.” He puts the lids on the cups and sidles over to the coffee counter. “Two-sugar coffee, black coffee,” he calls out, as if he hasn’t been gossiping. Other Other Guy gets up jerkily, wincing at the screech his chair makes as he gets up. The very act of seeing him cross the shop, get the coffees, and go back to the table is somehow painful to watch.

"Hurts to watch that boy," Jamal confirms, already back next to her. "Usually I’d say that and mean he’s too lovely, but this time?"

"I think he might be on the spectrum," Kelly murmurs. "Or something terrible happened to him?"

Jamal looks from Kelly to the man, head cocked. “Actually, the second one. My uncle came back from his last tour and he couldn’t look anybody in the eye for years.”

"Whatever it is, he seems miserable."

"Quit giving your heart out to everyone who walks in the door. You gotta keep something for yourself."

"I am FULL of self-love. My low-sugar diet is going great. I’m drinking lots of water. I took a BUBBLE bath last night."

"Have you answered Tina’s texts?"

Kelly stares. “How did you know Tina was texting me?”

Jamal rolls his eyes. “Nobody that batshit dumps somebody and doesn’t change their mind in a few weeks.” Kelly opens her mouth, and Jamal cuts her off, pointing. “Do. Not. Text. Back.”

Jamal walks away to wipe down the table after the Park Slope moms left Cheerios on every available surface. Kelly rubs her face and sneaks another look across the shop. Other Other Guy is sipping his coffee and looking out through the big plate glass window.

**

Kelly pretends not to notice when Other Other Guy waits awkwardly in line, seems to change his mind about something, and flees back to the table. A hurried conversation with Red Haired Lady. Kelly has to look away because this guy wants the low-fat smoothie made with whole milk and she has to double-check to make sure he realizes he’s defeating the purpose.

Other Other Guy gets back in line. Kelly preps herself mentally. She’s ready for him when it’s his turn.

"Hi," she says. He takes a deep breath like he’s about to confess in front of a jury.

"A club wrap," he enunciates very quietly, "a roast beef sandwich, a black coffee, and a coffee with two sugars."

"Got it." She punches it in, and he puts the credit card on the counter, a little more sure of this step this time. She takes it and swipes it. "Went through," she confirms, and puts it back down on the counter, because maybe handing it to him is… bad? "We’ll call out the coffee order when it’s ready. We’ll bring you the sandwiches when those’re done."

Other Other Guy nods and puts the credit card back into his pocket. He pulls out a five dollar bill and pushes it into the jar before jogging back to the table.

**

Jamal sidles up. “Jake says we’re out of avacado, so no more number fours today.”

"Got it."

"Holy SHIT."

"What?" Kelly looks at Jamal, then to the door - oh SHIT.

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.

BLOND GUY AND GAP TOOTH GUY ARE TALKING OUTSIDE.

THEY KNOW EACH OTHER?

ARE THEY TEAMING UP?

Kelly experiences an almost violent internal urge to warn… someone. Who is her alliance to? She wasn’t ready for this. Does she tell Red Haired Lady to run out the back? No, Red Haired Lady sort of deserves to get caught. Does she tell Other Other Guy to run out the back? He might be the only one who maybe knew what was up, but there’s no way he deserves the beating these two guys are gonna give him.

Kelly’s eyes flick back to Blond Guy’s biceps, flexing under his t-shirt as he gestures something in emphasis to Gap Tooth Guy.

NOBODY deserves the beating those arms would give.

Jamal’s quiet, almost in audible “oh shiiiiiiit” goes in one ear and out the other as she scooches by him to get around the counter, trotting over to the far table as smoothly as she can to say - something - to Other Other Guy, and she cringes as she hears the bell of the door opening.

She looks over. Blond Guy and Gap Tooth Guy are looking over at them. They know. THEY SEE THEM.

"Yes?" Red Haired Lady says, in the way that makes Kelly think she must have missed the first couple times she said it. Kelly blinks and looks from the two men to the woman and the man at the table.

"I," Maybe she can be a shield. A physical shield. Like one of those hippies that chains themselves to a super old tree. She’ll just stand here, physically existing, for as long as possible. So no violence can happen. "I was gonna tell you, your coffee’s almost up, and," she looks over at Blond Guy and Gap Tooth Guy, who are doing a really super job of looking like they don’t intend to murder anyone. "And, and, do you two want your usuals?"

"That’d be great." Gap Tooth Guy smiles all gappily and why is this happening, why is this so fine, everything seems okay, and when Kelly sneaks a glance down even Other Other Guy seems fine. Maybe he’s okay with dying? Maybe he’s emotionally and spiritually prepared for it? But no, he’s actually making eye contact with Blond Guy, like he knows him, and Kelly dashes back to the cash register to plug in the order before she realizes she doesn’t have a form of payment. Shit!

"You probably need this." Kelly’s head snaps up and it’s Blond Guy, all smiley and sunshiney and holding out a twenty dollar bill. She takes it.

"Th-thanks." She sneaks another glance to make sure Gap Tooth Guy isn’t sneaking poison into Other Other Guy’s coffee or anything and Blond Guy clearly catches her looking. When the cash til opens up to take the bill, it hits her in the stomach and she winces. Kelly is not smooth. She is a TERRIBLE spy.

"He’s a vet," Blond Guy says quietly, in explanation. Kelly realizes he must think that she’s just disconcerted by Other Other Guy.

"Oh," Kelly says, for lack of anything brighter to say. "He’s… nice." PLEASE DON’T KILL HIM.

"He’s really nice," Blond Guy agrees, and the way he’s smiling now is like Kelly must be some kind of brilliant amazing person, insightful and kind, because she noticed this fact. "Natasha says you turn the music down when he comes in?"

Natasha? Red Haired Lady’s name is Natasha? “He,” Kelly stutters, “it seems to freak him out less. If it’s quieter.” She gestures awkwardly to the back room, which Blond Guy has no way of knowing is where the dials are for the shop speakers, but it’s too late, she’s gestured back there, she’s gestured in a seemingly random direction, she looks insane. “Turn Down for What came on last week and he, he didn’t like it.”

His change. She hasn’t given him his change yet. She starts digging the coins out. “I assume that’s a song?” Blond Guy asks, and Kelly nods vigorously at the dimes in her hand.

"Sort of," she confirms, and he thanks her for the change and leaves a few bills in the jar and walks back to the table.

They’re all talking. Well, most of them are talking. Other Other Guy is listening. He makes eye contact with Gap Tooth Guy too! THEY ALL KNOW EACH OTHER.

Jamal nudges Kelly’s side. “So,” he murmurs quietly, “I’m thinking your gym theory, but the brother works there too, maybe he does spin class or something. The evil gym owner sent Basket Case a ‘Dear John’ letter while he was shipped out. They’re banding together to rob the place and run away to somewhere sunny.”

"You watched Inside Man again last night, didn’t you?"

"Inside Man is an underappreciated film."

Jamal finishes the drinks and calls out the order. Blond Guy gets up, takes the cardboard carrier, and says thank you like always. As the three at the table start inspecting the sharpie scribbles on the cups to figure out which is theirs, Blond Guy’s hand brushes Vet Guy’s shoulder, just a quick motion as he retakes his seat next to him.

Vet Guy BLUSHES. Tips his head down, puts his coffee cup back on the table to use both hands to move his chair a little closer to Blond Guy’s.

Jamal reappears. “I have a new theory.”


	18. Oblivious Flirting Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dothemortalcoilshuffle [asked for](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/95405350866/bucky-hitting-on-steve-and-steve-being-totally) Bucky hitting on Steve and Steve being totally oblivious? (Or vice versa.) 
> 
> Rated G for Oblivious Pre-Serum Steve.

"Buck, y’gotta cut the bangs a little shorter’n that. You barely even trimmed ‘em."

Steve blinks as Bucky leans in closer, strands of blond hair captured between two of his fingers. He’s looking over his handiwork, the little clippings here and there on the towel wrapped around Steve’s slim neck. “S’good like this,” he says, snapping his gum and fussing with Steve’s part a moment before letting go and leaning back again. “Suits you.”

Steve makes a face, getting up so he can walk to the mirror and see. It looks neat enough, he supposes, the sides are nice and short like always, but the bangs almost fall in front of his eyes, and they probably will even when his hair isn’t wet anymore. “I look like a dame.”

"You look good," Bucky says calmly.

Steve’s mouth twists. “You’re just gonna have to cut it all again in a few weeks if you don’t cut it shorter.”

Bucky shrugs, getting his pack of cigarettes and heading to the fire escape. “I don’t mind.”


	19. Scary Movies Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omnidimensionalfangasm [asked for](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/95405661611/omnidimensionalfangasm-replied-to-your-post) 'Something having to do with the gang watching scary movies and Bucky and Steve realizing that scary movies now compared to scary movies in the 30’s and 40’s are completely different?'
> 
> Rated PG for cinematic violence and adult language.

Modern cinema loves gore. ADORES it.

And it almost never looks even remotely real, so Bucky just watches with his head canted, kind of interested, a little skeptical. Steve knows, deep in his heart, that at some point Bucky has seen someone get impaled, and knows that the pilot on screen isn’t selling Bucky one bit.

**

Steve doesn’t know what these ‘jump scares’ the team keeps talking about actually are until the dinosaur appears all of a sudden, the music heightening in a sudden shocking jolt. He jumps a little in surprise, but doesn’t even notice, because BUCKY HAS HOOKED THE COFFEE TABLE WITH HIS BOOT AND KICKED IT INTO THE TELEVISION SCREEN.

There’s a sort of awkward moment where the table stays wedged in the cracked TV, crackling colors but still securely fastened to the wall. Then, with a sad, slow tilt, the table gives in to gravity and tumbles down onto the floor.

"JESUS," Tony says loudly, and Steve reaches out to touch Bucky’s shoulder, to apologize on behalf of Clint’s movie selection, on behalf of the MOVIE, but Bucky’s not there.

"THE FUCK WAS THAT?" Bucky’s shouting from the hallway. In the span of about two unmonitored seconds, he had made it about twenty feet before he realized it was a knee-jerk reaction.

"It’s okay! We’re okay! Everything’s cool!" Clint has put down his fruit candies to wave his hands in the air. Tony has gotten to his feet to inspect the damage, looking less sad about the television or the coffee table and more forlorn about the carpet, which is now doused in several spilled glasses of soda and beer.

"THAT’S FUCKING BULLSHIT." Bucky’s pointing to the tv. "Why would you watch something that does that?"

"For fun," Natasha says with a shrug. "It’s psychological. You get scared, you get an adrenaline rush, then you get to relax because everything’s fine."

Bucky, in a very uncharacteristic move for him, actually glares at Nat, like that’s the dumbest thing he’s ever heard.

"Romcoms," Tony mutters, gesturing irritably. "We’re switching movie night genres. I declare it."

"Aww, no!"

"ROMCOMS."


	20. Barbershop Quartet "Cheating" Prompt III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous [asked for](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/95406719666/more-kelly) "More Kelly!!!"
> 
> See chapter index for previous two installments of OT4 fic.
> 
> Rated PG-13 for tart-related innuendo.

"Wait, Abercrombie practically always pays in cash, but not the other ones. What about their credit cards?"

"It’s creepy to read someone’s name off their card," Kelly retorts, shaking her head. "Especially when they’re not even buying $20 worth of stuff, so there’s no reason to check."

Jamal huffs. “Bombshell’s never ever bought $20 worth of stuff?”

"Her name is Natasha. Aber— Blond Guy said so. And, and I peeked once, but it’s always one of those weird prepaid cards. Not a regular credit card."

"Hmmmm." Jamal leans back and pulls out his phone, checking for texts. (Danny, he insists, does not reply quickly enough. He’s trying to be ‘cool’ and Jamal is not having it.) "Those’re good if you have bad credit…"

"You think they all have bad credit?"

"I dunno, sweetie. Maybe they’re on the run."

"Maybe." It doesn’t really add up, but it’s still better than Jamal’s ‘polyamorous femme domme cult’ theory. "I mean, I guess I’m still curious, but now that I know they all… that nobody’s getting, like, LIED TO, you know?"

"I wish *I* was hot enough to have like five boyfriends." Jamal sighs wishfully and grins when Kelly gives a genuine giggle. "Maybe that’s why I had such a dry spell. Bombshell’s been snatchin’ ‘em all up."

"Bombshell’s her last name now. I’ve decided."

**

"Two. Of those."

"Okay." Kelly punches in the order for two cookies, pretending she doesn’t notice the intense scrutiny this order is getting from the three people across the room. "Both in the same bag?"

Vet Guy’s confidence crumbles for a moment. The tension is thick in the air. “Yes,” he says finally.

(Out of the corner of her eye, Kelly sees a three-way high-five at the table.)

"Okay." She rings him up, hands him the card back, and gets the tongs in one hand and the paper bag in the other. "What kind do you want?"

Vet Guy points resolutely to oatmeal chocolate chip. Kelly, in a moment she can’t quite account for, gets the urge to sneak a third cookie into the bag. But that might trip him up somehow, make him think he messed up, so she just resolves to suggest the raspberry cheesecake ones next time he’s at the counter. Those things are friggin amazing.

**

"You missed your mystery quartet yesterday," Jamal says, in the gentle way that someone tells someone their dog got run over.

"What? No! They almost never come in on weekends…" Kelly deflates. "My live action soap opera."

"I know," Jamal says sympathetically. "I couldn’t manage to take a photo, so I’ll just tell you: Abercrombie had his arm around Basket’s shoulders THE ENTIRE AFTERNOON."

"Oh my GOD."

"RIGHT?"

**

Vet Guy is up again, ordering for himself. This seems to be the new trend.

"I, um." Vet Guy looks really nervous, comparable to his first sighting, even. He’s staring at the board for once, scanning it. "I don’t know what to order." He sounds like he’s reading off a script. "Can you recommend something."

Over Vet Guy’s shoulder, Kelly sees Blond Guy and Gap Tooth Guy pump the air discreetly in unison. Victory! Sentences! Human interaction! But the happiness is short-lived, because now both men at the table are staring at Kelly, intent, as if willing her to respond correctly.

Kelly cannot handle this kind of pressure. Kelly is not a pressure person. “Well,” she says, equally as awkward, “you’ve already tried all the sandwiches, so I dunno. Have you ever had any of his tart?” She points as politely as she can manage over to Gap Tooth Guy.

Vet Guy looks over his shoulder, then back at Kelly in silent horror. What’d she say?

What

What did

OH GOD OH GOD

"Th- the berry tart, he orders a berry tart! A dessert!" Kelly realizes that she’s almost shouting. "That," she points to the display cabinet. "He orders that. It’s good. It’s swee- it’s good. You could have that. Or. Or a wrap, you could have a wrap. Both! Whatever you want!"

**

"Shut up."

"I’m not saying anything," Jamal insists between gasps, tears streaming down his face.

"SHUT. UP."


	21. Seeb Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emilyshay [asked for "steeb. always always steeb"](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/95418037361/emilyshay-requested-steeb-always-always-steeb)
> 
> (This is in the Old Lullabies verse, if you didn't know. See my other MCU-verse fics to find it.)
> 
> Rated G.

"No, you CANNOT take him to the birthday party at the pool."

”Wh-” Steve holds his hands out, only to have Sam poke him in the chest.

"I cannot think of a place you are going to attract MORE attention than a place where you don’t wear a shirt. We’re holding off on outing him as a superkid, remember? I’ll reschedule, I’ll take him."

"Doctor’s appointments are important."

"And reschedulable. I’m takin’ him."

"I’ll take ‘im," Clint offers, and both the other men turn to look at him. "What? I’m ripped, but I’m still pretty unfamous."

Steve gives Sam an unsure look. “We’ll talk it over with Bucky,” he says slowly.

"Yeah, yeah, ask Mom."

**

Steve watches Clint pack up the cooler, wrangle Todd into the car, and write down the address and the names of the birthday girl and her family. Todd is already singing car songs even though they haven’t started the trip yet.

**

When Clint comes back, the cooler is bereft of Hawaiian Punch drinks and Todd is a sleepy, chlorine-smelling mess of limbs. For some reason he has changed back into his street clothes but declined to take his swim goggles off his forehead.

Steve mouths a ‘thank-you’ to Clint as Todd gets handed off into his arms. Todd wriggles a little, getting comfortable, and smooshes his face into Steve’s chest.

"Todd?"

"Mm?"

"You have fun?"

"Mmmhmm!"

"Did you hang out in the deep end?"

"Mmmhmm."

"You wanna take a nap?"

"Mmmm-mm."

This refusal means that Todd just falls alseep in Steve’s arms instead of wrapped up in bed. Steve gets some flashbacks to Todd’s infancy, to learning to do everything one-handed with a sleeping bundle of mystery baby. He smiles to himself and makes coffee, reads the paper, and gives a brief wave when Bucky comes in.

Bucky cocks his head, looking at the toddler slumped across Steve’s body. ‘He okay?’ he mouths silently.

'Deep end,' Steve mouths back, doing a one-handed mime of treading water. Bucky ahhs and grabs himself a mug of coffee. 'Take him?'

'What?'

'Take him? I've had to pee for like an hour.'

Bucky bites back a laugh.


	22. Buggy Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obsessionisasecondskin [said](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/95464669261/obsessionisasecondskin-said-i-know-that-most): i know that most people prompt you with “Seeb” but can I prompt you with “Buggy” instead? :)
> 
> (Again, this is part of Old Lullabies verse. See my other MCUs to read it.)
> 
> Rated G.

"Buggy up peas."

Bucky looks down at the small hand clasped around his pant leg. “Okay,” he says gently, “one second, okay?”

"Kay."

Bucky side-steps carefully, taking the pot of noodles over to the strainer and dumping them in. Bucky sets the hot saucepan down and kneels, gathering Todd up with his (now faux-flesh-covered) left arm so Todd can watch the steam rise off the pasta.

"S’oke?"

"Steam," Bucky corrects. "Steam’s kind of like smoke. Smoke comes from fire. This is just hot."

"Ho’."

"Yup, hot." Buckys tilt the strainer back and forth, getting the last bits of water out before he returns the elbow macaroni to the saucepan. Milk, a small tab of butter, three kinds of cheese. The stirring’s a little difficult one-handed, but one must make these small sacrifices. "Can you help me get dinner ready? Can you go tell Steve to come to the table?"

Todd wriggles excitedly. He loves helping. “Da,” he affirms, and as soon as he’s lowered back down he wobbles off to go complete his task.

Bucky grins to himself in the kitchen. He pours the macaroni into a small bowl, setting it down at the chair with the booster seat before opening the oven and checking on the roast chicken. Definitely ready.

"Need a hand?" Steve calls from the dining room, just as Bucky’s plating the food.

"Nah. Siddown, I’ll be out in a second." He stuffs the dishwasher full before coming out with a ‘grown-up’ meal in each hand, setting Steve’s in front of him before realizing that Todd hasn’t sat down. Instead he is standing by his chair, one hand on the bowl on the table, apparently waiting for Bucky to sit down first.

Okay. Bucky sets his plate down and sits, biting back a laugh when Todd springs into action by pushing his bowl up next to Bucky’s plate and then clambering into his lap to sit.

"No booster seat today?" Bucky asks mildly.

"Buggy seat," Steve observes.

Todd makes a quiet pleased-with-his-brilliant-idea noise and chomps down on the first bite of macaroni.


	23. De-Serumed Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, confession time, nobody asked for this. There's no prompt. Just [an idea I had](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/96503504441/okay-but-what-if-steve-gets-deserumed-and-bucky):
> 
> "okay but what if steve gets deserumed and bucky, who’s previously been wandering through the tower like a ghost, silent for months, lights up and starts talking, saying words, but only talks to steve and"
> 
> ... which I then [fleshed out when castlesinkurtdom asked me to,](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/96506105116/castlesinkurtdom-replied-to-your-post-okay-but) and [then I added a bit more](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/96508067031/fieldbears-castlesinkurtdom-replied-to-your).
> 
> Rated R?

"Stevie?"

Steve’s head whips around, and as he cranes it up he can see Bucky’s face, gaunt but bright-eyed, expression incredulous.

"Stevie?" Bucky says again, unsure. His voice is hoarse from weeks of disuse, but there’s a note of hope in it, of recognition, and the sound of it makes Steve’s stomach twist. Bucky’s unshaven, hair tangled around his face, wearing yesterday’s clothes - the same sad sight that’s been slowly killing Steve for the better part of two months now, but his expression. His eyes. Steve can’t look away, because Bucky’s eyes meet his, race up and down his body as if cataloging every familiar plane to his suddenly shrunken body, the one man in the entire world who’s seen him like this up close before and he looks like he can’t get enough of it. “God, it’s really you?”

"Yeah," Steve says, voice wavering at the end. "Yeah, Buck, it’s me."

**

He lets Steve lead him to his room, past the desk littered with sketches, to the couch by the window. Bucky insists on touching Steve’s face, his hair, his hands, on hugging him tightly. Bucky is laughing, delighted, talking about how happy he is to be back.

Some part of Steve knows what ‘back’ means. Back from the war. He’s doing his best not to cry.

**

Steve has gotten good at this. Steve has Peggy.

**

Bucky tangles Steve’s thin fingers with his and asks him how he’s been doing. If he’s found a dame yet, if his health has been alright. He never got any letters. He was worried.

**

Bucky tries every trick he knows. Lips against the shell of Steve’s ear. Soft whispering, just this side of too sweet, hands on Steve’s hips and thumbs brushing patterns into the bone that juts out there.

He’s confused when Steve doesn’t give in, not even for a kiss, but something about the way Steve holds him tight across the chest and doesn’t let go all night. That makes it fine.

**

In the morning, Bucky wakes up first. He nuzzles Steve’s hair, left hand trailing along Steve’s chest. It’s unfamiliar, hard, a little cold - Steve flinches a bit and, when he gathers his senses, tries to pass it off as not having been touched in a bit. (Which isn’t a lie.)

"You really didn’t get a dame in all that time?”

"No, Buck."

Bucky’s smile is crooked and it hurts so, so much. “Really missed me, huh?”

Steve hides his face by tucking in under his chin, guiding the other man’s arms around his shoulders.

**

Steve brings some food in from the kitchen, scared to let Bucky see too much of the Tower in this condition. Bucky’s caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror, and he’s frowning, flesh fingers pinching down the length of his hair.

"How did it…" He’s mumbling, baffled, something approaching fear starting to swell in him.

"It doesn’t matter," Steve interrupts. "I’ll cut it for you, if you want."

Steve makes sure to gather Bucky’s hair back like a ponytail, cutting as much as he can first, before he hands Bucky the hand mirror to watch the progress like he used to. The pads of Steve’s fingers drag against Bucky’s scalp, massaging, finding the spot where the part should go. Bucky hums, contented.

**

Bucky fell asleep in the hoodie, is wearing it now. The sleeves are long and stretched and fall nearly past his thumbs. But he can’t wear it forever.

**

They eat the fruit from the kitchen. Bucky asks a few more questions, about rent, about whether the lady across the hall moved out. Steve’s not sure how this will resolve. If it will. If he wants it to.


	24. Eating Contest Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thealientourist [said](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/99406032166/thealientourist-fieldbears-prompts-an): An eating contest between Steve and Thor. They run out of food before either of them win?
> 
> Rated G.

"Just run and get some chips from a bodega down the street!"

Tony’s fingers curl in irritation. “Barnes, did they not have eating contests when you were —? No, stupid question, everyone was too busy being sad and jobless, fine. But eating contests involve  _prepared food_ ,  _hot_ dogs,  _bur_ gers, something cooked, not just… chips.”

Back on the platform, beneath the charity banner and in front of several excited screaming children dressed as Asgardians and spangly-colored soldiers, Steve pushes another emptied bowl to the side and gestures for another. Thor does not appear to notice. He’s chasing a last noodle around with his fork, brows knit together in concentration.

"The co-sponsorship with the restaurant means they have to prepare all the dishes," Pepper says, appearing somewhat suddenly by Tony’s side. "No outside food."

Sam nudges Bucky’s shoulder, pointing over to the outdoor cooking station off to the side. “They’re making wings again,” he says. “Thor and Steve did it. They’ve eaten the entire menu. The chefs are having to cycle back to the beginning.”

Thor slurps the final noodle up defiantly, and in a move now familiar to most of the Avengers crew, he makes an aborted move to smash the bowl down on the ground before remembering the customs and putting it instead, very gently, to the side. “Another,” he bellows. “If you please.”


	25. Swing(ers) Club Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whatwouldcaptainamericado [said](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/99407452961/whatwouldcaptainamericado-replied-to-your-post): Steve and Bucky mistaking a swingers club for a swing club.
> 
> Only rated PG-13, surprisingly.

Bucky notices Steve’s pinched face, and when they stop together and wait for the light to turn, Bucky elbows him gently.

"It said," he repeats, for what feels like the fifth time, "male couples welcome. Hell, it said female couples too, or even groups of three. They _won’t care_.”

"You’re right," Steve agrees, although he’s still chewing his lip.

Bucky nods his head and pulls the printed Craigslist page out, unfolding it and double-checking the address. “Two more blocks.”

"You were always a better dancer than I was," Steve mumbles, striding forward when the red hand gives way to the white silhouette of a walking man.

"Yeah. You also had asthma and a crooked back. Things’re different now." Bucky puts on his best supportive grin and trots a little further ahead, kicking one leg out as if he’s considering soft-shoeing the rest of the way to the club.

"Two more blocks," a woman singsongs behind them. "Quit looking so nervous! We’re going to have a great time."

Steve peeks over, and just like Bucky indicated, it’s one woman and two men. They’re walking in the same direction, presumably to the same event. Bucky notices them as the woman swats playfully at one man’s rear end, encouraging him to speed up. The man shyly blushes and picks up his pace.

"How’s she gonna be able to dance in a blouse like that?" Bucky makes sure to ask it quietly enough that they won’t be overheard.

"The future has something called double-sided tape, and it… … um. Modern women are very creative when it comes to attire. I’m sure she’ll be fine." Steve clears his throat and tries not to stare. "C’mon, we’re almost there."


	26. Ice Cream Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omnidimensionalfangasm [asked for](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/99407821101/omnidimensionalfangasm-said-super-lame-fluff-but): Bucky and/or Steve discovering that there is a place that has 31 flavors of ice cream (Baskin Robbins). And then going there. And possibly coming home with 31 pints of ice cream.
> 
> Rated PG for Bucky's irritated language.

"You didn’t tell me," Bucky says darkly.

"We’ve been trying not to overwhelm you," Sam says, fighting the urge to back away a little bit. "Steve said when he woke up, he had a lot of anxiety attacks his first few weeks, from, from _everything_ , and we were trying not to-“

“ _Steve_ ,” Bucky says, and Sam notices now that there is a tiny bit of chocolate chip in the corner of his mouth, making his menacing face somewhat ridiculous, “is the _first_ person who should’ve told me.”

"I’m sorry, Buck."

"You know I love ice cream.”

Steve shrugs helplessly. “To be honest, there’s a lot of lying in advertisements these days. I knew they said thirty-one flavors, but I figured they cycled them out, or they’ve had thirty-one flavors _over the years_ , not, you know.”

"Not thirty-one flavors all right in that fucking thing over there?" Bucky jabs his finger towards the cold display units on the other side of the shop.

"We’ll get you another cup when you’ve finished that one," Sam assures.

"We’re not leaving this place until I’ve had at least ten more."


	27. Thanksgiving Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stuffimgoingtohellfor [asked for](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/99408884361/stuffimgoingtohellfor-said-thanksgiving-dinner) Thanksgiving dinner and pie.
> 
> PG for American history and pie theft.

"What’re you trying to remember?" Steve asks, knowing the searching expression Bucky has at the moment.

"The phrase Natasha said… ‘before it was’… Oh. ‘Before it was cool.’" Bucky looks pleased, and turns to Sam. "Steve was complaining about the ethics of Thanksgiving before it was cool."

Sam lifts his eyebrows, leaning forward a little to verify that Steve does indeed have the face of a man who’s about to have a story told about them. “Oh yeah?”

"Every year," Bucky confirms. “‘What kinda people are we, to pretend we were pals with ‘em?’" He twirls his finger in a ‘and so on’ gesture. “‘I’d ask an Indian how he felt about it, but darn if it seems we haven’t pushed them all off the coast and into-‘"

"I didn’t sound  _that_ annoying.”

"You did." Bucky smiles and sneaks his fork over to steal some pie off of Steve’s plate. "And I… what’s the new phrase? I  _lived_ for it.”


	28. Todd Halloween Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trekkiemage [said](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/99410644066/trekkiemage-said-picking-a-halloween-costume-for): Picking a Halloween costume for Todd.

"You designed and sold the Iron Man costumes. At a  _loss_.”

"Yes."

"So that they would have all these gadgets and the kids would pick them over the other Avengers costumes."

Tony crosses his arms defiantly. Behind him, a child points his ‘repulsor’ hand at his little brother and laughs rapturously when the sound effect triggers. “YEAH!” He crows.

"That is an epic level of pettiness," Bucky informs him. His eyes are still tracking Todd, who is navigating quietly around the throngs of children to look at every option posted on the wall. It’s obvious that he wants to look at  _every_ picture, just not those in his age range. He’s currently admiring a picture of an infant dressed up as a green bean.

"My outfit’s always been the best. You know, objectively." Tony shrugs. "I just figured I should reward the kids who pick it by giving them a few more gizmos to enjoy."

“ _I AM IRON MAN!_ " Someone’s mask says in a robot voice. Steve rolls his eyes and Bucky tilts his head.

"Does Steve’s mask talk?" Bucky asks.

"I forgot to schedule him for a recording session," Tony replies smoothly.

"Buggy," Todd says at Bucky’s hip, tugging his shirt. "Can I peas, um, try on dat one." He points to a spot on the wall, and Bucky leads him back over to figure out which one it is and what its number is.

"Just brace yourself for disappointment, is all I’m saying." Tony shrugs. "I’m the cool uncle."

"We’ll see," Steve says. He hates that he’s somewhat invested in this now.

(Todd  _does_ really like blue. And he plays with the Captain America mask whenever Steve comes home in uniform. He’s got a good shot.)


	29. Barbershop Quartet "Cheating" Prompt IV (finale)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anon [asked for more Kelly](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/99412494401/moooooooore-kelly-please). The tumblr post is an unfinished draft of the chapter below.

It's been a rough day with several tiny earthquakes and four different brownouts. Apparently there's subway maintenance going on uptown and it's messing up way more than expected.

Jamal is just packing up his bag when someone starts banging on the front door, making the blinds rattle.

"Anyone in there?" Someone's shouting. "I have a lot of money!"

Jamal rolls his eyes and slings his bag over his shoulder. "Night, Kelly. You coming to the thing tomorrow?"

"Not sure," Kelly says, eyeing the door suspiciously. "I'll definitely see you Thursday, though."

"Okay. Be safe." Jamal heads out the back, wisely avoiding whoever the hell is knocking after hours, and Kelly sighs and continues putting the chairs up on the tables.

" _So much money!_ " The person shouts. Kelly lifts her eyebrows, unconvinced, and moseys over to the mop and bucket.

" _My name is Tony Stark and I demand entry to this coffee shop!_ "

Kelly stops.

"Come on, my Iron Man suit can detect life signs in there. Please. Muffins. Whatever it is you sell. I need them. Open up? ...please?"

Kelly, feeling somewhere between a panic attack and a vivid hallucination, grabs the mop, creeps closer to the door, and uses the handle to nudge one of the Venetian blinds just high enough to make out a ruby and gold metallic robot suit. Before she can get a good look, a face she's seen countless times on TV ducks down, smiling hopefully at her.

"Hi?" He says through the glass. "Um, pretty please?"

"H-hi," Kelly says, because, jeez.

"Hi," the man says again, actually really patiently. Maybe he gets this a lot. Actually, he probably got 'this' before he was ever even a superhero. "Would you mind opening the shop back up? I promise I'm, like, the _last_ person who'd ever rob you."

Kelly pulls the broom away from the blinds, letting them fall back down, and leans it against the wall. Takes a breath. Runs over to the counter, where her ring of keys is. "Coming," she calls, belatedly, and is so so glad she thought to get little animal-themed key caps so she could easily tell which work key was which. Front door. Turtle. Got it.

"Thanks," Tony Fucking Goddamn Stark says, and steps inside, looking around. Then he tilts his head like he's talking into a comm. "Someone tell Bucky his wish is granted. Come on over, it's open now."

Kelly tries to think of what to do while also remembering to breathe, and walks over to turn the lights on at least, and maybe even start putting some of the chairs back down. "Um, how many are, um," Kelly swallows. "How many are coming?"

"Seven more. Here, I'll do that. Do you do espressos?" Tony Fucking Goddamn Frigging Oh My God Stark walks over in his Iron Jesus Mary and Joseph Suit and starts scooting tables together and arranging the chairs. Thunder crashes outside, making Kelly jump a little.

"I'm not great with the, I usually, the cashier? I can try."

"Sounds good to me. Hey, Thor, come inside, man. You're gonna scare the locals."

"Friend Tony, the sign here clearly states a requirement for shoes  _and_ a shirt, and Bruce has neither."

Tony It's Really Actually Him Stark rolls his eyes, opening the door to reveal an ENORMOUS BLOND MAN IN A CAPE who is carrying a smaller slightly nakeder man in his arms. The man  _is_ wearing pants, though, which is, really, a small mercy.

"Bring him in, prop 'im up in a chair, he'll be glad for a coffee when he comes around. Don't worry about his feet." Tony Gosh-Dang Stark holds the door open for  _FUCKING THOR_ and the demi-god just strolls in, nudging one of the chairs a little further away from the table so he can sit the grown man in it gently as if he weighs absolutely nothing.

"I'm gonna," Kelly says, and points to the back room, even though nobody is looking at her. She nods, turns, and books it.

**

Three minutes of pure stifled panic attack later, Kelly reemerges, smoothing down the front of her apron. The shirtless shoeless man (HULK, her mind supplies helpfully) is rubbing his face like he's hungover, mumbling something to CAPTAIN AMERICA, who is nodding along, rubbing absently at a singed part of his suit. Next to him, Black Widow is -

Black Widow is -

"Oh my  _freaking God_ ," Kelly whispers to herself.

Tony Goddamn Stark is standing at the counter asking something about paninis, but Kelly's still staring at Black Widow, at, at  _Natasha_ , who's drumming her fingers on the table, watching the door, smiling as Falcon comes in, wiping some dirt off his uniform and Falcon smiles, all gap-toothed and-

"Jesus fucking Christ I'm stupid," Kelly hisses.

"-or if it's got pesto then I- wait, have you been listening to any of this?" Tony Actual Stark squints. "What're you-" He turns to see what she's staring at, then grins. "Yeah, forgot to mention, your coffee place came recommended."

Behind Tony Stark, Captain America laughs at something the Hulk said. Captain America's laugh is. His smile is. That's _him_.

"Are they all? Are all of them?" Kelly points vaguely, fighting shock. "Where's the fourth one?"

"The fourth what? Are you talking about Bucky? He broke into your men's room to scrub some of the sludge off his face." Tony Stark chews his lip. "If he, um, broke the lock, I'll pay for that."

Kelly nods slowly and stares at the Hulk, at Hawkeye, at Natasha Bombshell and Blond Guy and Gap-Tooth Guy all hanging out at the table. Blond Guy notices her looking over and waves tiredly.

Blankly, Kelly waves back.

"Have they ordered?"

Kelly twirls around (and nearly falls over) to see Other Other Guy, Basket Guy, BUCKY BARNES??, wearing a slightly too-big motorcycle jacket that has faint smears of grime and black ichor on the sleeves. He looks tense as ever.

"No," Kelly manages. "Um, let me get the register going."

"I don't know what I want yet," Bucky Actual Barnes confesses - his hair is way longer than it was in the textbooks, and he's not clean-shaven, but it's totally him oh my god - and his eyes flick up to scan the boards that have been exactly the same for like three weeks as if they're brand new. Behind him, Tony For-Real Stark makes an annoyed noise.

"You picked a place on the other side of the city and you didn't even want anything in particular?"

Captain America (!!!!) shoots him a look. "When  _you_  save us all from a madman in a bolted-on mask and green cape,  _you_ can pick where we go after."

"Those are very specific terms." Tony Stark huffs and leans back in his chair.

Bucky Barnes rubs his forehead, continuing to squint up at the boards. Kelly gathers her courage.

"Why, um. Why don't you have an outfit?"

"What? Oh." Bucky Barnes's left hand, still wearing motorcycle gloves, fiddles with the zipper of the jacket. "I'm not an Avenger. Someone had th- ... they were stuck somewhere, so I just. I went and got them."

"That's pretty cool," Kelly says quietly.

Bucky shrugs noncommittally, looking uncomfortable.

"Raspberry cheesecake cookies are, um, they're really good."

"What?"

Kelly points at the display case. "They're really good. I can heat 'em up if you want. And milk," she adds suddenly, unable to stop herself. "There's milk for the coffee drinks, you could - sorry, I don't - I mean, you should have whatever you want." She can feel her face burning, silently asking herself why panic always leads to babbling.

Bucky Barnes Who Is Actually Here looks confused, scanning the boards for the zillionth time. "There's. No milk listed."

"It's not an official, like, thing we sell. And we're not supposed to heat up the pastries either, but it's not like my boss is here."

Bombshell - Natasha Romanoff? Black Widow? - comes up behind Bucky Barnes, tilting her head. "Can you make chocolate milk?"

Kelly thinks back to the fridge. "Yes," she says decisively.

"Two of those. And all the cookies you've got." She pulls a familiar black card from her utility belt and slides it along the counter.

"Make it three, please," the exhausted shirtless man at the table calls politely.

"What are we ordering?" Thor asks.

"Chocolate milk and cookies," Bucky Barnes reports almost dutifully.

"I quite enjoy the variety of baked treats available on this planet! This will be an excellent meal."

"Oh my god," Tony Stark says. "Are we really ordering chocolate milk and cookies? Is that our victory dinner?"

"Yes," Hawkeye says simply, in a tone that makes Kelly suspect he's largely going along with it to annoy Tony Stark.

"I'm gonna go warm up the oven," Kelly says, and decides she's got just enough time to squeeze in a couple hyperventilating breaths in the back room between the tray of chocolate chips and the tray of oatmeal raisins.


	30. Water Park Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> omnidimensionalfangasm [asked for](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/100093920906/omnidimensionalfangasm-said-any-of-the-avengers): Any of the Avengers (but preferably our favorite nonagenarians) going to a water park. Maybe for the first time. Also, the glory that is the lazy river. And is Bucky really good with squirt guns?
> 
> Rated G for me not integrating squirt guns.

"Nonono, it’s _indoors_ ," Tony says.

Steve tilts his head. “A water park. Indoors.”

" _Yes_ ," Tony says emphatically. "Like… think of like a giant… gymnasium? More like a greenhouse. With big wave pools, water slides, the whole thing. So he wouldn’t have to be outside."

"Wouldn’t that be packed with people?"

Tony shakes his head. “Stark Industries Day,” he says, and rolls his eyes when Steve gives him a blank look. “It’s - it’s a company thing. You had company picnics in your day, right? No, you barely had companies. It’s a treat for employees, they all go with their families, Stark Industries rents the entire location for a weekend. We can just move the hours around so the Avengers can have, like, two hours in the evenings to ourselves, no crowds, no outdoors, just people he knows, totally fun without freaking him out.”

Steve swallows, thinking about this. “Is there loud music playing?” he asks finally.

"If there is, I’ll have them turn it off."

**

Bucky looks damn good in the swim trunks Sam gets him, scars or no. After a few fussing moments, he disappears back into the hotel room and returns with a t-shirt. Steve and the others resolutely do not draw any attention to it, instead continuing to explain to Steve what a ‘lazy river’ is and why he should be excited.

**

Bucky turns out to like the lazy river way more than Steve, and ignores most of the rest of the park. After thirty minutes or so Steve leaves Clint with the waves and grabs a tube, joining Bucky. He’s surprised when Bucky scoops his hand out of the water, gently twining their fingers together.

"This is nice," Bucky says quietly.

"Yeah," Steve agrees.


	31. Werewolf Steve Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon [wanted](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/100095835386/prompt-any-interest-in-doing-werewolf-steve-i) werewolf!Steve: "I just want Steve being an overly-physically affectionate puppy, all 240 pounds of him post-serum."
> 
> Rated PG for references to bizarre MTV shows.

"It is much like the teen dog show," Thor says lightly, and frowns when everyone looks at him with a blank expression. He turns to Jane. "Did I not say it correctly? The television show Darcy so enjoys. With the young men who transform into wild animals."

Jane frowns for several seconds. “Teen WOLF,” she says finally, snapping her fingers.

"Teen Wolf," Thor repeats. "Yes. The Captain’s blood mingled with an Asgardian beast on the battlefield, and so his change is imminent. Unlike the teens of Darcy’s television show, however, it is not a permanent affliction, but rather one that lasts about a fortnight. So, pray, do not look so concerned."

Bucky tilts his head, still refusing to stop hovering around the Asgardian medical table where Steve is laid out. “So he’s gonna be a werewolf,” he reiterates, “but for, like, less than a week.”

"Not exactly a wolf of Earth," Thor says, frowning. "He will be an agreeable enough beast with an appetite."

On the medical table, Steve rolls onto his side and snuffles quietly.

**

"He JUST had lunch with us," Clint insists.

"I believe you," Bucky replies, barely tamping down his impatience, "but I need you to run to the, the kitchen place, next to the mead hall, you know where it is?"

"Yeah," Clint says, still pretty distracted by the shirtless, golden-furred Steve sitting by Bucky’s feet and headbutting his hip.

"Yeah. And ask them for more… haunches of… whatever the hell. Meat. Get a few platters sent in here."

"Bucky, the platters here are, like," Clint extends his hands from each other.

"Yeah, I KNOW."

**

Steve refuses to sleep anywhere other than in Bucky’s bed, half in Bucky’s lap, with his face pressed into either Bucky’s armpit or Bucky’s neck. His nose - snout? - is wet.

**

He doesn’t play with everyone, but as soon as Sam takes him for something like a ‘walk’ and Steve finds a branch, he REFUSES to leave without playing fetch. Sam resists for a while, concerned about how embarrassed Steve might be when he’s himself again, but after getting tackled down onto his back, Steve licking his face insistently, Sam gives in. Whatever makes the guy happy.

**

Bucky finds Steve curled up next to Natasha by the fire one night. Her nails are skritching gently at the spot behind Steve’s shaggy golden ears and his tail is swishing left to right at a lazy, all-is-right-with-the-world pace.


	32. Howling Commandos Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon [asked for](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/100104640046/anon-requested-steve-bucky-steve-gets-shot): Steve/Bucky. Steve gets shot during a commando outing and Bucky doesn’t think he’s gonna make it. Cue commandos realizing Bucky loves Steve.
> 
> Rated PG for wounds and a general air of closetedness.

“No, nonono,”

"Buck, I’m fine."

Morita mumbles something under his breath as he helps Dum-Dum haul the medical cot to the tent, and Barnes follows like he’s tied to it, hands hovering over the gut wound, over Rogers’s hands, over his jawline. His rifle’s still slung over his shoulder as he kneels down.

 _They’re gonna notice_ , Morita thinks, and uses his best ‘I’m a Howling Goddamn Commando, do what I say’ expression as he waves the other nurses and nosey types out of the tent. The doctor sets about examining the wound, cleaning it up as Barnes’s hand wraps tightly around Rogers’s.

Dum-Dum and Morita are silent as the doctor starts to fish around to get the bullet out. Soon enough the others file in, Falsworth taking off his hat as he does.

Every time the doctor touches a nerve, Rogers hisses a little in pain, just a little, and every time he hisses, Barnes goes a little paler, mutters encouragements almost too quietly to be heard. “S’gonna be okay, Stevie,” and “I’m with you, I’m right here,” and “you’re gonna be alright.”

The bullet clinks against the metal tray and everyone standing around lets out a breath in unison. Morita’s eyes flicker up, checking expressions, and he thinks that the others are starting to figure it out. Dum-Dum’s eyes are lingering on how Barnes’s hand hasn’t left Roger’s.

"M’right here."

"It’s okay, Bucky, I promise." Rogers is a little light-headed but he’s _Captain America_ , he won’t die from this, they all surely know that. The bullet that would have had any other guy screaming and bleeding three times as much is just painful, making him a little woozy, and he can still talk to what Morita is more convinced than ever is his best fella.

"I’m going to go make some tea and coffee to settle our nerves, if anyone wants to join," Falsworth says, and makes his exit. Dernier follows him, saying something in French that makes Jones straighten up and frown.

"What was it?" Dum-Dum asks.

"Nothing," Jones says too quickly, and looks from Steve to Bucky to Steve again. Morita elbows him.

"It’s  _n_ _othing_ ,” Morita says pointedly, locking eyes with him and making sure he understands.

Jones nods at him, then looks back at the cot. Barnes is sweeping the hair out of Rogers’s face, the damn fool.  _He’s going to get himself caught if he isn’t careful._

"Nothing," Jones repeats firmly, and nods to Dum Dum before heading out.


	33. Scars Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anon [asked for](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/100180681456/anon-prompt-post-catws-steve-really-wants-bucky): Post-CATWS, Steve really wants Bucky to model for him but Bucky’s self-conscious about the metal arm/other body scaring.
> 
> Rated PG-13 for a referenced relationship and sad feels.

Bucky keeps the lights off when he visits at night, and Steve doesn't think anything of it until he pulls out his sketchbook.

"Wait," Bucky says, and crawls across the bed to pull on some pajama pants left on the floor, and, after a moment, a hoodie as well. He lays back down on the bed as he was, head pillowed by his arm, hair fanning across his shoulder and back, trying to play it off like it’s nothing.

"Bucky?" Steve asks. Although by some small miracle the Smithsonian never got hold of them, Steve has  _definitely_  drawn Bucky in the nude before.

"I’ll move if you want me to," Bucky says accommodatingly, definitely trying to navigate the conversation away from all the clothes he just put on. Steve sets the book and pencils aside and Bucky winces like he knows what’s coming.

"You know you don’t have to hide all that."

"It’s… c’mon, this’ll be fine."

"It’s fine the other way too, Buck. You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, but." He fumbles for the words. "You know I still think you’re beautiful."

"Yeah, I don’t…"

"Is that why you only get undressed in the dark now? Why we-"

"Listen, just leave it, alright?"

"Bucky, you deserve to  _like_  yourself.”

Bucky growls under his breath, pushing himself up on his hands and squirming to yank one pant leg up far enough to show off a jagged, raised scar from his ankle to his knee. “This isn’t  _handsome_ , Steve,” he says, voice forcibly even. “This isn’t… you haven’t  _seen_ , okay, they’re, they’re all over, and my shoulder, it’s,”

"I’ve felt your shoulder."

Bucky winces, glares.

"You’re beautiful."

"Shut up." Bucky lets his pant leg drop down, sliding off the bed and going for the door.

"Bucky, don’t-"

The door slams.

Steve pushes his thumbs into the corners of his eyes and sighs. That’ll be at least a day of hiding. Maybe two. They’d been doing so well.


	34. Bucky/Steve/Bucky Non-Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be honest, nobody asked for this. [Bluandorange](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/) drew [this](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/102130938305/i-need-this-to-inspire-at-least-one-fanfic-that-is) so I had to write [a thing](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102138945036/bluandorange-i-need-this-to-inspire-at-least).
> 
> Rated E for Exclusively Smut.
> 
> (...but seriously, go look at [this](http://bluandorange.tumblr.com/post/102130938305/i-need-this-to-inspire-at-least-one-fanfic-that-is) first. If not to get context for the drabble then to just enjoy it. Because. Yes.)

"Oh, for crying out - I’ll sit in  _both_  your laps.”

James’s eyebrows twitch in confusion, but Steve just grabs Bucky by the shoulder, pushing him roughly onto the bed until he’s sitting, knee-brushing-knee, with James. Steve rolls his eyes as he spins around, spreading his legs and settling down on the two almost-identical thighs pressed against each other. James immediately wraps his left arm around him as if to make sure he keeps steady, as if he might  _fall_ , of all ridiculous things. Bucky just hums in satisfaction, leaning in to nose at the thin column of Steve’s neck.

"Wassit mean when it’s whirring like that?" Steve murmurs curiously, tucking his chin in to look down at the metal hand curved delicately over his hipbone. James swallows.

"Just. It happens when I’m. It’s indicative of an increased heart rate."

"He’s saying you got him hot and bothered, Stevie." Bucky chuckles and wastes no time in curling his hand around Steve’s torso too, nudging the singlet up inch by careful inch and smiling against Steve’s neck when he shivers.

"Well, tell ‘im he should  _do_  something about it.” Steve shifts between them, stifling a little yelp when metallic fingers click against the button of his jeans, tugging gently until it opens. Steve waits for the strange, cool fingers to slip into his boxers, but they don’t, tracing little maddening circles instead.

Bucky’s not being nearly so romantic, the pads of his fingers grazing Steve’s nipple over and over under the singlet until Steve’s back arches into both of them, breath coming a little shorter. Steve reaches back blindly to find the nape of Bucky’s neck, then a little higher, finding hair long enough to grip warningly -  _stop and I’ll yank_. Bucky just laughs at the familiar move, free hand coming up to Steve’s arm and squeezing it appreciatively.

"Feeling good?" Bucky asks, and Steve just huffs and shifts some more, not quite rutting, and then twitching when James’s fingertip, at  _last_ , nudges under all the fabric, just grazing the tip of his quickly hardening erection. Steve gasps and nods wordlessly, knowing James’ll probably want a little more than a lack of a swat to hear “yes”, but James  _still isn’t touching him_ , not really, and when Steve looks to Bucky for some kind of backup, Bucky just smiles down at the metallic hand, using his own flesh fingers to pinch at Steve’s nipple some more. Steve whines.

"C’mon," he says, not a hundred percent sure who he’s complaining to. James just takes Steve’s free hand and presses it to the side of his face, nuzzling it patiently.


	35. Toddler Steve Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Bluandorange requested toddler!Steve in no uncertain terms.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102324638116/bluandorange-fieldbears-bluandorange)
> 
>  
> 
> Rated G for [officially-licensed babywear](http://hotja.tumblr.com/post/102200096928/baby-steve-bucky).

The Babies R Us two blocks down has most of the gear they need, including [a hooded Captain America onesie](http://hotja.tumblr.com/post/102200096928/baby-steve-bucky) (with tiny wings at the ears), a Hulk ‘sleep sack’, and several binkies. The first binkie never seems to leave Steve’s mouth, so the other packs go unopened.

"He  _likes_  you better,” Clint enunciates tersely, holding him out.

Bucky takes a step back. “He doesn’t know me.”

"You were kids together!"

“ _Later_ ,” Bucky says, voice cracking a little as he stares at the bundle of chubby limbs. “I was - I wasn’t that much older than him, I ne- I never  _babysat_  him.”

”Well, there’s a first time for everything. Tony and Pepper are busy wrangling Thor in the Hulk-proof room. Natasha won’t let any of us touch Sam. So you’ve got Steve, okay?”

"So who do  _you_  have?” Bucky asks suspiciously.

Clint points down the hall. “I’m gonna make sure Bruce doesn’t fall asleep trying to figure this shit out.”

“ _I_ could poke Bruce with a stick every ten minutes,” Bucky says, sounding unsure.

"Mah," Steve says quietly, around his binkie.

"No, shh," Bucky says back, and reaches out, taking him under the arms and bringing him in to press him against his collarbone.

"See? You’re a natural. I’ve got to go get on the very important business of  _literally anything else,_ so, y’know. If you want me to pick up any more stuff? Text me.”

"H-" Bucky thinks back to his little sisters. "He’ll need milk, and-"

"Fridge. Bye."

**

The formula’s easy enough, and it seems to be okay that Bucky doesn’t remember the little songs or games that used to be the everyday life of an older brother. Steve sits in his lap grabbing at his own feet, mumbling to himself, tipping as he reaches up to touch the stubble on Bucky’s face.

He’s so  _chubby_.

**

Bucky roots through the pile of shopping bags to see if there’s a playpen he can build. He finds the rest of the ‘Captain America’ outfit - a round backpack in the shape of the shield.

What would an infant need with a backpack? Bucky tilts his head at it, turning it over in hope of some clues, and Steve makes an excited sound from the couch.

"It’s…" Bucky looks at it. It  _must_  be child-safe, but. “It’s not a toy.”

"Ahhhh." Steve giggles and Bucky realizes he likes the jingling of the metal zipper. Bucky pauses, tilts his wrist back and forth to shake the bag, and Steve laughs delightedly again. Bucky shrugs and hands it over, only mildly concerned when Steve gives an honest go at eating one of the tiny straps.

**

Steve falls asleep with the bottle in his mouth, head inching back and finally dropping to rest on Bucky’s arm.

**

Pepper and Natasha come through for some of the ‘Starbucks’ coffee drinks in the fridge. Bucky picks Steve up from his spot on the couch, humming through Steve’s tired protests, edging the sliding door open with his metal shoulder and walking him around the pool until he nods off again.


	36. Misc Short Prompts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are all very short, so I'm lumping them together. They're all SFW.

 

> "[Stucky marriage proposal?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102325494666/eldestwinchesterwizard-answered-your-post)"

 

Bucky stares at the signs.

"Everyone’s been telling me the future is socially… liberal," he says under his breath, not even looking at Steve to his right.

"It  _is_ ,” Steve insists quietly, standing up a little straighter behind the podium. “They’re mad because - the mayor, the one who’s giving us the key to the city, she’s-“

"Yes, I know, she’s married to a dame." The signs are eye-catching, one might say. Colorful in both statement and… spelling mistakes. There’s one that doesn’t even have words, just a male sign overlaid with a female sign circled. There’s a double male sign and a double female sign and they’re both crossed out. Very to the point. “So do these guys just show up and complain at every single event she goes to? Because she’s a… because she’s married to a woman?”

Steve winces a little. “Probably,” he says. At the podium. some sort of exchange ceremony is happening, and Tony’s starting in on a speech that will probably be short, completely off the book, and possibly end up on whatever ‘TMZ’ is.

"That’s fucking bullshit," Bucky murmurs.

"I don’t disagree."

“ _Fuck_  these guys.”

"Bucky, it’ll be alright. She’s a grown woman, I’m sure she can handle some igno- no.  _No_.”

"Three months after ice, plus two years before ice, I’d say that’s a good amount of time to-"

"Bucky, oh my  _good G_ _od_ , don’t.”

"Why not? I’ve seen MTV. Big elaborate proposals are really ‘in’ right now." Before Steve can reach out to grab him, Bucky steps in smooth-as-you-please to replace Tony at the microphone as soon as he’s done.

* * *

 

> "[Bucky discovers how he was depicted in the old Cap comics.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102333694911/araniaart-answered-bucky-discovers-how-he-was)"

 

"I  _never_  wore tights.”

Clint shrugs his shoulders and smirks a little, not very bothered by Bucky’s vehemence.

“ _Steve_  wore them. While he was touring. I  _never_  did.”

"The first three issues had regular you, and then they were trying to reach out to kids more, so they, like, changed you."

“ _Fuck_  that!” Bucky scowls and crumples the first-edition, half-century-old comic book before throwing it back on the table. Tony’s hand stops on its way to delivering a blueberry to his mouth and he visibly fights down a scream.

 

* * *

 

> "[Jealous Bucky?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102328401246/rabbitsix-said-jealous-bucky-3-bucky-gets)"

 

Bucky gets along well with Thor, at least at first. Thor seems to kind of tone it down a little around Bucky, probably having been given a ‘chat’ from Jane and, to be honest, probably not needing it. Thor’s a smart guy. Sensitive, even. He can tell when someone needs a little more quiet, milder touches on the shoulder instead of a jovial slap on the back, just simple adjustments to make sure they’re at ease. Thor’s thoughtful.

Maybe that’s the issue.

Not many people in the world know about Steve Rogers’s type, but Bucky sure as fuck does. It’s not brunettes, it’s not redheads, it’s not ‘great legs’, it’s not ‘nice bosom’, not even ‘big eyes’ or ‘great smile’.

It’s  _good_.

Thor is overwhelmingly  _good_. He’s got the stupid magic judgmental weapon to prove it and he’s clearly so much stronger than humans, has so many responsibilities back home, and he does his best to balance them all and  _help as many people as he possibly can, even if they are weaker or less significant_.

Steve kicks back with Thor after a fight against Zemo one night and the two do their best to get drunk together. Bucky could’ve joined, but he was busy fuming on the balcony.

"Are you gonna do something about it, or are you just gonna get like this every time he comes to Midgard?" Sam takes a pull of his beer.

"Shut up," Bucky grouses, and folds his arms over his chest.

 

* * *

 

> "[Steve: “OUCH goddammnit motherf—” *curses a blue streak* Bucky: *falls down laughing*](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102326384816/z-delenda-est-answered-steve-ouch-goddammnit)"

 

"Oh, shut up, it’s dark back here and the props are just strewn around anywhere! You could’ve just as easily stubbed  _your_ -“

"Still mic’d," Bucky hisses through his laughter, pointing past Steve’s shoulder to the closed curtains of the school auditorium.

It takes a moment for it to register, but when it does Steve feels like he would very much like to die.

* * *

 

> "[Role reversal: (barely?) post-WS Bucky makes tentative attempt at caring for traumatized Steve?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102326135241/joycesully-answered-role-reversal-barely)"

 

When Bucky brings Steve’s breakfast to him in the morning, Steve doesn’t catch on. When Bucky sits with him and watches television with him in bed, albeit silently, Steve just accepts it, grateful for a bit of unexpected company. After that many days waiting for rescue, unable to sleep, wakefulness turning into paranoia -

Bucky puts his hand mechanically on the spot of mattress between Steve and the chair Bucky is sitting in. Steve finally recognizes it as the awkward but heartfelt gesture Steve would perform when Bucky was still too broken to leave his room or talk.

Steve doesn’t know what to say. When all the breakfast is gone, Bucky gets up, collects the plates, and leaves with them. It’s like a silent film version of four months ago, reversed.

**

Bucky comes back at lunch with sandwiches and books. Steve opts to try some conversation, and Bucky accepts it, in that he doesn’t leave or look like he wishes Steve would stop. Steve continues with the small-talk as Bucky putters around the room, cleaning, tidying, finally sitting in the chair again and holding out his hand palm-up. He’s looking at Steve’s arm.

Steve holds it out and Bucky takes it, inspects it, goes to the bathroom to find new bandages to wrap around him. His fingertips are warm and soft and smooth and cool, in turn, as he passes the roll of gauze around and around in slow smooth motions. Steve looks down at his lap and breathes in deeply.


	37. Grabby Todd Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> delicateweepingaudreyflower [asked for](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102330733711/delicateweepingaudreyflower-answered-todd-goes): Todd goes through a ‘pull anything dangly he can get his hands on’ phase? Sweatshirt pulls, hair, earrings, capes…
> 
> Rated G for BABBY and SURPRISES.
> 
> (I feel kind of bad that Todd's half of the stuff on here instead of staying in his own story where he belongs. Sorry, guys.)

Pepper has learned to wear stud earrings.

"I’m so sorry," Steve says, face absolute  _tomato_  red as he grabs Todd’s tiny hand and starts trying to unwork it from the Wakandan President’s wife’s earring. Her eyes are huge, neck bent at an awkward angle to accommodate the pull and keep from damaging her earlobe. “I’m  _so_  sorry, ma’am, he - he’s usually not like this.”

"Just pop it out from the back, Captain Rogers, and let him have it, he’s clearly not ready to let it go." She’s actually laughing, which is a good sign. Steve tamps down his discomfort at the closeness and gently pushes the hook of the golden earring from behind, letting out a grateful breath when it’s free from her ear and just in Todd’s greedy, unknowing hands. He giggles delightedly and shakes it, making the interlocking circles jangle together like a ring of keys.

"He, um, he’s kind of started a ‘grabby’ stage, I think. I had no idea he’d do that, I’m so so-"

"You really do not need to apologize." She smiles beautifully. "He has excellent taste. T’Challa had those made for me by a very well-known artisan." She readjusts Todd in her arms, offering up a perfectly manicured finger for him to grab instead. It takes a few seconds, but he finally latches on, and Steve kneels down and catches the earring as it’s about to drop to the floor. "Ah! We make an excellent team."

"We do, Misses… um, I’m so sorry."

"Mrs. Munroe." She smiles. "I kept my name."


	38. Short Prompts II

> "[Steve and Bucky get addicted to Pokemon and Natasha doesn't let Tony give them shit about it](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/107254907326/steve-and-bucky-get-addicted-to-pokemon-and)"

 

"This is like watching someone’s dad try to be cool and talk about bands with his son."

Steve takes a deep breath. “Just tell me how it works.”

Tony opens his mouth to say something that definitely isn’t an answer, but then stops. In the reflection of the perfectly buffed air compressor in the corner, Steve can see the blurry shape of Natasha holding something at shoulder height. Steve’s not sure what it is - there are a lot of power tools in that corner of a lab.

"Um, it’s," Tony’s having trouble maintaining eye contact with Steve, constantly looking over his shoulder instead. "Um, you said he’s got what again?"

"It’s called Omega Sapphire." Steve knows this because Bucky told him, using four of the twelve words Bucky’s used all week. He also almost smiled when he said it, lips twitching in something between embarrassment and something that might have been hope.

"Well, if," Tony takes deep breath, eyes flickering again. "If games are… are helping his recovery, then." He raises one oil-stained hand to scratch behind his ear. "I’ll, um, I’ll order you the other game, and a DS, that’s uh, the thing you play it on, and - and a strategy guide!" He flinches back, but by the time Steve whirls around Natasha isn’t doing whatever the hell she must have just been doing. "A strategy guide. The best strategy guide. You’ll catch ‘em all. Jesus. Okay. Jarvis. Amazon. Now, please."

 

* * *

 

> "[Steve does story hour at a local library.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/107177111251/you-already-did-2-of-mine-but-ive-been-drinking)"

 

Steve, through the Stark Industries HR specialist, reserved half an hour for a no-press, all-kids story time at the New York Public Library.

Steve, because he is Steve, ends going overtime by an hour and a half. When Bucky comes to collect him he finds Steve sitting on the floor with a rapt audience, a pile of finished storybooks to his right, and a small brown-eyed kindergartner on his left, who peeks over his shoulder at the pages and giggles every time Steve does the voice for the witch.

Bucky stays to do one (JUST ONE) story with Steve before dragging him home.

  

* * *

 

> "[Clint keeps accidentally walking in on people having sex. He's not happy about it.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/107173361776/prompt-clint-keeps-accidentally-walking-in-on)"

 

Natasha does not look up when Clint comes in. She flips a page of her magazine. Clint sits on the arm rest of the couch she is relaxing on, clearly distressed but aware enough to keep clear of her freshly-painted toe nails.

Clint sighs.

"It happened again," Natasha translates, eyes not leaving the article she’s reading.

Clint rubs his face, shaking his head a little.

"Not Thor and Jane. Someone new this time."

Clint looks up at the ceiling.

"Yes, but no?"

Clint shuts his eyes.

"Thor and someone other than Jane."

Clint takes in a deep breath and doesn’t let it out.

"Steve."

Clint says nothing, just breathes out.

"Where were they?"

Clint’s jaw clenches.

"Well, tell them that’s not what the exercise mats are  _for_.”

 

* * *

 

> "[Bucky (and/or Steve) discovers his favorite modern invention.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102327584796/prompt-bucky-and-or-steve-discovers-his-favorite)"

 

"So, they make…" Bucky stares at the bottle on the screen.

"It’s made for sex."

“ _Just_  for sex?”

Steve nods patiently, not looking up from his book.

"It’s slick. That’s just made to have sex with."

"Just for that," Steve affirms.

"How do people  _buy_  it?”

"You’re looking at a website with a basket in the corner. You know how to buy things." Steve turns a page. "Although, actually, I’m sure they sell it at regular old ‘brick and mortar’ sex shops too."

"At  _ **what**  _shops!?”


	39. Toddler Steve Prompt II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "[MORE BABY STEVE AND DADDY BUCKY THIS TIME WITH CRAFTS OR SOME SHIT"](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/107171670891/more-baby-steve-and-daddy-bucky-this-time-with)
> 
> Continued from [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1925544/chapters/5789651). Rated G.

Sam, apparently, is colicky and barely sleeps. Thor is too dangerous to be let out of the Hulk-proof room.

Steve doesn’t seem to mind not having playmates. He sits in Bucky’s lap on the floor and looks studiously at the square peg in his hand, then at the various holes in the small wooden table.

"You’ll get it," Bucky murmurs encouragingly. Steve starts awkwardly tapping the peg against the triangle hole just as Clint comes through with a notepad and paper.

"Doing a Starbucks run for all the babysitters," Barton says. "What do you want?"

Bucky works his jaw, still unused to questions like this. “Coffee,” he says finally, and doesn’t understand the barely-stifled look of irritation on the other man’s face when he walks away. “Please,” Bucky adds, because maybe that was what was wrong?

Steve continues to jab the peg ineffectively into the hole, mumbling around his pacifier.

**

Bucky forgot that sometimes babies don’t feel like eating, even though they should. He’s pretty sure he used to have strategies for this.

"It’s applesauce," he says, spoon held carefully between them. "You had it yesterday. You liked it."

Steve’s mouth stays shut, hands stubbornly planted on the high-chair table.

"Is it— I forgot your bib." Bucky puts the spoon down, finds the bib, and gently attaches the velcro in the back. The bib has small green dinosaurs on it. Bucky picks the spoon back up and offers it to Steve, but no different results. "C’mon, Stevie."

Steve’s huge blue eyes display no sign of empathy for Bucky’s plight. Bucky breathes in deeply, sets the spoon down, and rubs his left arm as if to massage the whirs and clicks out of it. It doesn’t work, but for some reason it’s almost soothing to try.

"Awp."

Bucky looks up. Steve’s eyes are fixed on Bucky’s arm, mouth slightly agape. Bucky swallows and stretches his back, rolls his shoulders, encouraging the gears to recalibrate and smiling a little when they do. The sound makes Steve giggle. Bucky rolls his left shoulder slowly, using his right hand to pick the spoon back up.

**

Steve often fusses when he’s put to bed, but he always falls asleep within the first ten minutes. Bucky knows because he always comes back to check.


	40. Tattoo Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked for "[matching tattoos](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/107172464131/steve-and-bucky-get-matching-tattoos)" for Steve and Bucky.

"Whaddaya  _mean_  it’s gone!?”

"Morita said-" Steve jerks a thumb over his shoulder, then huffs, pulling his shirt off and turning around. "See for yourself!"

Steve listens to the sound of Bucky muttering, of putting his newspaper down on the cot, and getting to his feet. Then he feels warm fingertips tracing around the spot on his shoulder blade where the word should be. “S’there,” Bucky says finally, quietly.

Steve sighs a breath of relief. “Thank God.”

"It’s almost gone." Bucky sounds like he’s smiling but sad. "Your body must not like it."

"What?" Steve twists as if he could somehow see, fighting the urge to stamp his foot. "But we both…"

"You aren’t doing it on purpose, Stevie." Bucky gives his hip a friendly pat before going back to his cot.

"The stuff they didn’t tell me about that damn serum," Steve mutters.

**

They don’t actually see each other naked very often - the one time Steve catches a glimpse of Bucky changing into a less grimy shirt before they head east for Switzerland, it almost looks like ‘Brooklyn’ is fading from Bucky’s skin as well.

But that doesn’t make any sense.


	41. Vamp!Steve Tidbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long time ago [someone asked for non-Thin White Skin vampirey Steve](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102242715751/bluandorange-fieldbears-replied-to-your) and I wrote a bit of a thing. Here is the thing.
> 
> Rated T?

Steve’s not sure if he can get a new apartment. If he could… get  _into_  it. He’s not sure exactly how it works.

He tried to help Mrs. Weizmann carry groceries up to her place on the fourth floor - she was too grateful to ask how this wouldn’t trigger an asthma attack for him - and when he got to her doorway he stopped short, onions almost tumbling out of the paper sack, and he blinked a moment before collecting himself.

"On the kitchen table, there, if you don’t mind," she called from inside her room. Her domicile.  _Not his_. Couldn’t move.

"I," he thought fast. "I should come in and put them on the table?"

"Yes," she said, assuming he hadn’t heard her clearly, and that’s enough consent for whatever was holding his feet in place. He walks through the entryway and feels some strange weight untangle from his legs.

So he stays in the apartment he knows he can get into. His. He’s more obsessive than ever about making sure he’s up on the rent, terrified that being behind might mean he can’t even climb in through a window.

Part of him hates the apartment.

Bucky’s smells are everywhere and Steve can’t stop himself. He crawls onto Bucky’s bed, neatly made and not slept in for almost five weeks now, pressing his face into the pillow and inhaling the thick scent of Bucky’s hair, his skin. On his less controlled days he peels down the sheets and breathes in the fainter smell of sweat.

He tells himself he wouldn’t miss him so much if it weren’t for … for what happened to him in the alley, for the bite. If he weren’t so strange now, he’d be coping with life without Bucky like any normal friend would. Or at least close enough that he wouldn’t feel so disgusted with himself.

Bucky didn’t pack most of his clothes when he shipped out. They smell almost as good as the bed.

**

Steve explains he’s on some experimental new medicine. It means he’s a little paler, “a little ghostly”, he says self-deprecatingly, making the neighbors chuckle, a little prone to headaches from the sun, but he likes it, because his chest is better, much better, and so he can work more jobs. Everyone agrees it’s a good trade. Ms. Kurtz jokingly says he’s welcome to borrow some of her lighter blush to put a bit of life back into his cheeks, and he smiles through it.

**

The papers sugar-coat everything, but it’s clear. Things are bad in Europe. Steve reads every line, watches every newsreel, and feels the pit of his stomach curl. It isn’t even the hunger. He’s gotten used to that. It’s the  _missing_. It’s the  _not knowing_.


	42. Misc Short Prompts III

> "[‘high school male gymnastics team’](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/103425229711/notallbees-answered-looking-through-my-most)" (which I read as cheer leading, for some reason)

 

"Steve, at least think about it."

“ _No_.”

"What happened to all that gender equality stuff?" Bucky quickens his pace down the hall a little, noticing not for the first time that Steve walks faster when he’s pissed off and wants to outrun a conversation. "I can’t believe you’re turning something down because it’s too ‘feminine’."

"It’s not - that’s  _not_  why I’m not interested.”

"So why wouldn’t you want to join up in the only club where there’s me,  _and_  that new exchange girl you like,  _and_  if you strike out with the exchange girl? There’s like  _nine other girls_.”

"Most of whom you’ve already dated."

"I’m not dating them  _now_.”

"Drop it, Barnes."

"C’mon! Quit being a wuss about it." Bucky cheats, speeding up just enough to throw an arm across Steve’s path. He leans against the locker and cocks his head in the way that means he’s not going to leave this alone.

"You know I want to be  _on_  the field, not next to it.” _  
_

"And you’ve tried out four times, and they’ve turned you down four times." Bucky shrugs. "Cheering’s good too. It’s good for school spirit, you get to put it down on your college applications just like football."

"And how’m I gonna throw a girl in the air and catch her, huh?"

Bucky shrugs. “I could always throw  _you_.”

"This is why I’m not doing it."

 

* * *

 

> "[asexual/demisexual steve?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/103425995941/asexual-demisexual-steve-there-is-never-enough)"

 

It was  _so much easier_  before.

Girls didn’t so much as look at him twice, and whenever Bucky - who meant well, he really did - set him up with a dame, it never led to a second date, let alone a third or a fourth where a heated kiss or heavy petting might start happening. Steve kept his head down and focused on other things. Maybe some day he’d find a dame who understood, who was maybe even  _like_  him, but. That was a lot to hope for.

(Some guys liked to think that all girls were just pretty little things who made time with them to be nice, but Steve new better. He saw the looks girls gave to Bucky, to his… to various  _parts_  of him… and it was clear that girls were plenty interested in fooling around too.)

The serum had kind of ruined his low profile. He was getting touched as soon as the vita-rays were over, and Peggy, well… he never knew quite what Peggy was thinking  _before_. He certainly didn’t know now. Sometimes she looked at him with something like warmth, sometimes there was something more…  _wanting_ , maybe… and other times she was shooting at him. Dames were complicated.

After defrosting, and the Battle for New York, Natasha gets it into her head that he needs to ‘get laid’. That’s it, Steve’s sure of it. There’s mentions of ‘Dani-with-an-i’ and ‘Sarah G from HR’ and ‘the new cupcake shop that opened downtown’ and ‘that new thing at the Kennedy Center’ and it will. Not. End. And Steve throws a wrench in every single one because every single thing he’s seen from the future, every song he’s heard, movie he’s watched, show he’s tried to get into, it’s all sex. And he’s not a prude, he knows he isn’t. He just… doesn’t want it.

He really doesn’t feel like showing that broken side of himself to anyone.

 

* * *

 

> "[Sam & Steve are catsitting for Natasha while she and Bucky are out on a mission?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/107254211086/for-a-prompt-sam-steve-are-catsitting-for)"

 

"What’s the stuff in the margins?"

"Those are notes from Clint," Steve says, who only knows this because the chicken scratches are very distinct and used to be scribbled all over the maps in SHIELD’s ready room.

Sam frowns at the instructions in Steve’s hand and then shrugs, pulling out the borrowed keys and finding the right one for the knob and the deadlock. “Well, as long as  _one_  of us can read those parts, we should be able to do this.”

"I think it says…" Steve squints. "Will only come out for… that can’t be right."

Sam unlocks the door, and they peer in. It’s startlingly normal inside. And quiet.

"What’s it look like it says?" Sam asks.

"Antiques Roadhouse."

"Antiques  _Roadshow_.”

"Movie?"

"TV."

Steve squints at the paper and sighs. “Well, apparently that’s what the cat wants to watch after dinner.”

**

The vase is in fact genuine, and is worth between $2500 and $3000 dollars.

On the couch, Levitsa deigns to let Sam stroke her behind the ears.

 

* * *

  

> "[The Avengers play Cards Against Humanity.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/107174648786/the-avengers-play-cards-against-humanity)"

 

"What is my superpower?"

"What?"

"That’s what the  _card_  says,” Tony clarifies, flipping the black card between two fingers to display it to the table.

"I don’t have a ‘None’ card," Bruce says, which is so blunt and unlike him that Pepper almost falls out of her chair laughing. Thor grins beside her, wisely moving her glass of wine before it meets an untimely end. Darcy’s laugh is almost a cackle, and Jane swats her somewhat clumsily to try and calm her down.

"Okay, Tony’s superpower," Sam says, trying to fight back tears at Tony’s look of utter shock and betrayal at Bruce. (Bruce, to his credit, is looking studiously at the five cards remaining in his hand and pretending not to notice. When everyone else is drinking he has elected to ‘let loose’ by being a little more blunt, and nobody has seen any reason to complain.)

Clint, as always, flips his card facedown and slides it across the table like he’s auditioning for a 007 movie. Steve looks through his hand of white cards and tries to concentrate on picking something even slightly good.

It’s not that he doesn’t like dark humor. You can’t get through war  _without_  it. It’s just that this format is… a very new way to use it, and there are some pop culture references that are still difficult. (Rush Limbaugh is definitely some kind of political commentator, but the significance of his body is lost on Steve.)

"Rogers, we’re gonna start doing the Jeopardy theme song," Darcy says.

Tony leans back in his chair. “Which is a reference to something not as quite as old as y-“

"Quiet, Stark, I’m looking for that damn ‘None’ card."

 

* * *

 

> "[Werewolf Steve and exasperated-with-all-this-fur-Goddammit-Steve Bucky?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/108316583721/werewolf-steve-and)" (kind of a continuation of [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1925544/chapters/5533175))

 

"No, not in the bed."

Steve whines and nuzzles further into Bucky’s armpit.

"Down.  _Down_.”

Steve pretends he didn’t hear, tail thumping wildly and getting what can only be tons of golden fur all over the fresh sheets. Bucky rolls his eyes and lies back down, resigned to his fate of more laundry.

Steve snuffles happily and lays his head on Bucky’s chest.

"You weigh a  _ton_.”

"Rf."


	43. Short Todd Prompts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Todd comes from my "Old Lullabies" story. All his stuff is G to PG.

> "[the first time Todd breaks a bone?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/103431457486/obsessionisasecondskin-answered-your-post)"

 

"There was an incident. It’s already been resolved."

Steve looks up from the chili on the stove to Natasha, who’s got her arms crossed and is standing up very straight. She looks perfectly calm, but something is definitely wrong. Steve has acquired some kind of sixth sense in the last decade or so that just… tells him things.

"Where’s Todd?" He squints.

"He’s getting his wrist bandaged down in medical. It’s a slight fracture and he is not crying anymore."

Steve drops the wooden spoon.

"WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED?" Bucky has appeared as if from nowhere, sliding past Natasha to stand in front of her. He’s still holding a watering can.

"We were in the gym, I told him not to, he did anyway, he fell off the balance beam and onto his hand."

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky mutters, and helps Steve start disassembling the prepared food so they can run downstairs.

"He’s okay." Nat tilts her head. "You two used to get  _shot_  repeatedly. In the 40’s. Before we even had decent-“

"This isn’t us," Steve says tightly, and tosses her the oven mitt before jogging to the elevator.

 

* * *

 

> "[who gives Todd “the talk” ?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/102333316931/obsessionisasecondskin-answered-who-gives-todd)"

 

Natasha sits Todd down in his room with some books, and when Todd realizes that Steve and Bucky are just going to stand in the corner and look uncomfortable, he becomes concerned.

"M’I in trouble?" he asks cautiously.  


"No," Natasha says calmly. "You know how Tony’s best at explaining physics, but Bruce is better at teaching biology?"

Todd frowns and nods.

"Steve and Bucky want to be able to teach you this, but… I’ll do a better job," Natasha says, very kindly not mentioning the embarrassed faces and the quiet begging the day before.  


"So it’s future stuff," Todd summarizes decisively, but Natasha shakes her head. "…no?"

"Body stuff," Natasha says, and lifts the first book off the pile to turn it over and reveal the cover. Todd’s eyes widen incredibly fast but he does not, to his credit, try to run away.


	44. Barbershop Quartet "Cheating" Prompt Tiny Epilogue

 

> "[Something wintery-fluffy involving the Barbershop Quartet?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/107176554946/prompt-something-wintery-fluffy-involving-the)"

 

"Try this," Natasha says, and holds out her mug.

Bucky obediently takes it. He cradles it delicately - new arm as of last week - and looks into it before taking a small sip. He swallows, presses his lips together as he thinks, then looks up at her. “Can I have some more?”

"As much as you want." She drops her hand from the arm rest of the recliner to his hair, stroking it gently as they watch the end of their third holiday special in a row.

**

Bucky ends up wanting ‘peppermint mocha’ drinks nearly every day, but they’re too sweet for him to ever want more than about a third of the cup. Sam elects to take the bullet and finish them off whenever Bucky orders or makes them. Steve doesn’t know why he thinks it’s so cute that Bucky does this. Or that Sam enables.

**

Natasha still calls just about every shot, and nobody has any complaints. When things are calm enough, the four of them take a trip to Clint’s ranch and stay for three days. Bucky is very particular about the fireplace and how the wood should be stacked, so Steve leaves him to it, helping Sam in the kitchen as they put together some stew and hum along with Nat King Cole. When Nat comes down from her bedroom and wraps herself around Bucky in front of the fireplace, Bucky pauses a moment, sets the poker down, then leans back into her. Just a little bit.


	45. Knitting Bucky Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> trekkiemage said: [Bucky and knitting :D](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/108286884051/trekkiemage-said-bucky-and-knitting-d)
> 
> Rated PG for recovery themes. Idk.

Remapping the nerve conduits to make them as similar to the original arm as possible is really, really hard.

Tony actually  _apologizes_ , which frankly scares Bruce and alarms Steve a little, but Bucky just looks down at his lap, hunched in on himself like always. His new limb seems like it’s almost delayed, not lifting up in sync with the other, always a half second short, and his  _brain_  has to remap, apparently, learn this new one’s little quirks and differences.

"But you’re definitely okay with it?" Steve asks, because if Bucky wakes up in another panic attack trying to rip  _this_  one off, Steve might not be lucky enough to hear and come in and stop him.

"I. I want this one," Bucky says to the floor, and that’s enough for Steve.

**

Gross motor skills versus fine motor skills. Bucky does windmills in his room, shy about it, probably aware enough of his surroundings to know he looks silly doing them. His left arm sometimes lags behind the first, and he gets frustrated, takes breaks, spends way more time than necessary closing and opening both hands around his pillow to relearn how much pressure to exert.

**

Finer motor skills take longer. Sam says it probably wouldn’t be a big deal if Bucky could be more verbal, if he could express frustration or handle failure a little better, but. Sometimes when he’s in the common room passing the tennis ball from hand to hand, when he drops it, he flinches like he’s waiting for a smack or a shock and Steve feels something close to physical pain.

**

"How’re you doing, Buck?"

Bucky puts the pencil down to answer, and holds his journal up wordlessly. There’s a huge ‘dent’ on the center left where his left hand must have gripped the thing too hard and almost folded it. Steve looks and tilts his head, thinking.

"My third day after the serum, I woke up and stretched my arms out and punched a hole through the wall."

Bucky actually smiles a little.

**

Steve thinks Bucky’s regressing when he starts doing his exercises in his room again, hiding for large chunks of the day. Sam disagrees. He says he found some new little practice methods and Bucky’s getting more confident. He just wants some quiet.

**

"Do you remember the…" Bucky trails off, looking away about the same time that Steve nearly drops his fork onto his plate.

"You can ask anything you want," Steve says, sitting up a little straighter.

"Your grandma made you a hat," Bucky says firmly, after a few moments of silence.

A few more moments of silence. “Yes,” Steve confirms.

"You liked it."

"I… did."

"Could you draw it?"

Steve fights the urge to ask why. “If… if you want, Sure. Do you mind if I finish dinner first, or do you want it now?”

"After dinner’s fine, it’s just - it’s. It’s not important. If you want to, you…" Bucky looks like he’s losing steam. "If you feel like it." He walks back down the hall, toward his room. Steve stares after him and resolves to draw the damn hat six different ways from six different angles. He has no idea what Bucky wants it for, but that’s beside the point.


	46. Misc Short Prompts IV

 

> "[That merman 'verse where they still become superheroes - Steve and jewelry, please?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/109933415346/that-merman-verse-where-they-still-become) " (previous bits [here ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1925544/chapters/4156458) and [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1925544/chapters/7280156))

 

There’s something really special about coming home from a successful mission. Everyone has their own routine - Pepper draws Tony upstairs and they spend some time together on their floor. Sam usually opts for either shooting the shit with Clint and Natasha over beers or watching whatever’s on ESPN and barely drinking for all the shit he talks about whatever team he’s rooting against.

Steve goes to the salt water pool.

The uniform ends up a crumpled mess in the corner by the door, and by the time Bucky’s showered off and joining him, Steve’s legs are already scaling over and shifting back into a tail. From the way Steve’s back always arches and relaxes back down against the lip of the pool, Bucky figures it’s sort of like taking your boots off after a long day.

"Thought this might be a good time," Bucky says, right hand fishing around in his pocket and finally closing around the tiny velvet pouch. Steve looks over his shoulder out of courtesy, but Bucky can tell he’s barely paying attention. The fins are seeping out of his skin, rearranging themselves on their rightful places up his spine and along his ribcage. Bucky smiles.

"Mm?" Steve asks, eyes flickering to his pocket and then to his face. He looks relaxed. It turns to pleasant surprise when Bucky pulls out the bag, and then delighted when Bucky hooks one finger into the bag and starts slowly dragging out the long string of thin black pearls.

"I know you like ‘em because your earfins just twitched."

"I-" Steve trails off and then laughs at himself. "They’re  _gorgeous_.”

"They’re gonna look more gorgeous on you, doll. Can I put ‘em on you now?"

"Only if I can pull you in here as soon as you’re done and-"

"Yes. Definitely."

 

* * *

 

 

> "[Bucky discovers spoken word poetry...](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/108287663341/agrossunderstatement-said-bucky-discovers-spoken)"

 

"Does he  _perform?_ ”

"No," Sam says, sipping his Starbucks drink that took almost five minutes just to order. Tony leans in closer for more details. "Dude, it makes sense."

“ _How_  does it make sense?” Tony looks to Steve for a partner in confusion. “He hates going places. He’s scared of people. He’s scared of  _words_.”

"He can’t express himself," Sam says, lifting his eyebrows. "He can barely admit when he’s got a headache. Going and listening to people spill their guts is making him feel better."

Tony quirks his lips, leaning back in the patio chair and finally shrugging. “I invented a three-dimensional Bejeweled knockoff that was based on string theory after I get kidnapped. I guess I can’t judge.”

"Bejeweled is that phone game?" Steve asks.

"Yep."

Steve nods, then looks to Sam. “So we know where he’s going Friday nights, and it sounds perfectly safe. You wouldn’t needlessly give up details about what he was doing unless…”

"Someone should start going with him," Sam says.

"To keep him from rushing the stage and one-upping all their sob stories with his prosthetic arm tied behind his back?" Tony flinches from Steve’s look. "No, seriously, why?"

"Apparently some of the girls have started trying to chat him up and he doesn’t know how to disengage politely. Our Bertie needs a Reginald."

Steve grins at Sam. “You loaned me that book. That was a good book.”

"Dude, there are like  _twelve_ of those books.”

"Really? Do you have them all?"

 

* * *

 

> "[Clint and Bucky getting competitive at darts. Can you get a screwdriver in the center? How about a pencil? A fork? A SPOON?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/109920404936/domnidimensionalfangasm-said-clint-and-bucky)"

 

"Can I?"

The entire room goes quiet. Bucky’s hand is held tentatively over the box of darts, clearly not moving further until someone says yes. It’s the same way he does everything - only hovering over the food put in front of him until someone says eat, only holding a glass or a bottle until someone says he can drink it. Clint looks at the darts in the board, then at Steve. He nods.

"You used to be really good," Steve says encouragingly, and picks out one of the blue ones (his color) to give to Bucky. Bucky weighs it in his hand and looks at it for a while. The room’s silent until Tony takes an intentionally long slurp of beer. Bucky takes Steve’s place in front of the board, body language going from stiff and brittle and painfully self-conscious to something a little more relaxed. He throws too hard, like it’s a weapon, and it sails high into the center of the triple ring.

"Nice," Clint offers, but Bucky is already scowling. He’s upset by his failure. Clint bites his lip and grabs a red dart, hesitating, then ‘conveniently’ taking his time in getting the perfect posture and practicing his throw. He pretends not to notice as Bucky watches and relearns.

**

Three games later Bucky  _actually smiles_  as Natasha hands him the salad fork. He waits until the excited hush falls over the room again before throwing. It clinks against Barton’s in the board.

 

* * *

 

 

> "[...one of the marvel ladies doing something badass??? or mundane...](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/109921013281/would-you-be-adverse-to-writing-something-about)"

 

"So, I was thinking."

Natasha cants her head and puts the mission report down, waiting for Pepper to finish her thought. Pepper draws in a breath and continues.

"Before you came out as a secret agent, and you were just a Stark employee, we went out for drinks a few times and socialized as colleagues."

Natasha nods, fingernail tapping thoughtfully against the paper on the table. “Mojitos,” she recalls aloud, not smiling or frowning or, as far as Pepper can tell, conveying any emotion one way or the other.

"Well. The bar we went to opened up some new private rooms, and the bartender we had last time still works there. You seemed to enjoy it at the time, and I’ll understand if that was politeness or part of your cover, but if you were interested,"

"I’d like to go again."

Pepper tamps down something like surprise and pleasure from appearing on her face.

"With you," Natasha adds, after a pause. "At the time you called it your biweekly ‘Not Tony Night’ and I assume the same rule still applies."

"It does, yes. It’d just be us." Pepper realizes how that sounds and starts to force her feet to draw her toward the veranda, to safety. "Tomorrow night? Eight?"

"Eight," Natasha agrees mildly.


	47. Misc Short Prompts V

 

 

> "[So the ot4, Sam, Steve, Bucky and Natasha, which two have to sit in the back of the car? Who drives? Why? ... Who gets carsick, if anyone?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/109921498871/so-the-ot4-sam-steve-bucky-and-natasha-which)"

 

"Hey, man, give that back."

Steve squirms to look in the back seat. Bucky is holding Sam’s tablet and looking blankly unapologetic. “You’re making yourself sick,” Bucky says.

"I’m almost at the end of the chapter. Just-"

Bucky flips the tablet through his metal fingers like an oversized playing card and tucks it into his hoodie, zipping it up. “You need five minutes to let your stomach calm down.”

"I’m not  _teeny Steve_ , dude, I don’t need you to coddle me.”

"I was never  _teeny Steve_ ,” Steve mutters from shotgun, ignoring the light smirk on Natasha’s face.

"You can finish the chapter when you feel better."

Sam scoffs. “Natasha, how much further?”

"We’re not there yet," she says evenly, and smirks wider when Sam rolls his eyes and makes an irritated sound.

 

* * *

 

 

> "[Bucky insists that he does not have a cat, the stupid thing only shuts up when he lets it in from the fire escape and if you really must now, he hates the cat. It would be easier for everyone to believe if he wasn't actively petting the cat while he saying it.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/111899783846/prompt-bucky-insists-that-he-does-not-have-a-cat)"

 

"This is your apartment," Steve says gently. "You can have pets if you want."

"I  _don’t_  want pets.” Bucky huffs and picks a small bowl up from the floor, filling it with water from the sink and placing it back down. The scrawny cat on top of the bookshelf drops nimbly down to the couch, then the floor, trotting over and lapping contentedly.

"If it’s just a stray that got in, there’s, um, there’s shelters for pets around here. We could drop him off."

"Her." Bucky licks his teeth behind his lips thoughtfully, watching the cat stand, shift, and then finally sit in front of the bowl, purring quietly. It’s a pleasant noise. Steve waits for Bucky to decide. "Don’t they put them down if they don’t get adopted? Or if they’re sick?"

"I think some do and some don’t," Steve responds truthfully, not deigning to mention that some quick Google searches would tell him which were which.

"She hasn’t done anything wrong." He wipes at his chin and turns to open the fridge, rustling around. "Seems stupid to risk her getting put to sleep."

"You’re right." Steve fights back a smile as he sees Bucky take out a half-eaten package of rotisserie chicken and another small bowl. "What’s her name?"

"What makes you think I gave her a name?"

 _You always named all the ones around our apartment_ , Steve thinks, and just shrugs instead. “Nothing wrong with a name.”

"Well, if she keeps snoring on my couch all day, I’m gonna name her Warthog."

Steve does not point out that there is a careful, cat-sized bundle of throw blankets arranged on one side of the sofa for what can only be that exact purpose.

 

* * *

 

 

>  
> 
> "[Doggy au! Therapy-dog-for-veterans!Steve and recovering-fighting-dog!Bucky!](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/111903664106/pogryzc-replied-to-your-post)"

 

"No, I’m-" Sam holds his hands up and tries not to look scared of the tiny red-haired woman in his lobby. "Of  _course_ you can have Steve back. It’s just. It turns out that he’s really good for Bucky, and  _nothing_  is good for Bucky, like, ever-“

"Bucky’s another dog?" Natasha interrupts, a little less sharply than before.

"Yes," Sam confirms. "He’s actually a permanent resident here. Steve was in the recovery room after getting getting his cast on, and, um, Bucky kind of…" Sam gestures vaguely. "Has figured out… doors?"

Natasha tilts her chin in a very deliberate, intimidating way that makes Sam understand exactly why dogs do whatever the hell she wants. “And this other dog didn’t engage.”

"No, nonono. We found ‘em snuggled up." Sam forces a smile. "They’re actually in the back sharing a cage if you wanna come see."

**

They are indeed snuggled together in the corner of the cage - Steve’s front right paw, clearly still tender from his misadventure, is wrapped up neatly and stuck out in front, but otherwise they are tangled together. Upon noticing Natasha, Steve’s tail starts wagging, and he starts to get up, then reconsiders. Bucky’s ears flatten and he shrinks a little into the corner of the cage, not untangling from Steve.

Natasha examines the scene. “This dog has a lot of scars.”

"Rescued from a ring," Sam says quietly.

"Bait dog?"

"No." Sam sighs. "Champion."

Bucky doesn’t look like a champion. His tail is pressed against his hind legs, nose pressed against the fabric of Steve’s collar. Steve, eyes lidded and clearly still a bit drugged, thumps his tail contentedly against Bucky’s side.

 

* * *

>   
>    
> 
> 
> "[The avengers find Steve's sketch book in the common area and discover he's been making little cartoons of their daily antics, and then accidently flip to far through the pages and find his more, er, 'personal' drawings of Bucky and him ;)](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/111908419076/the-avengers-find-steves-sketch-book-in-the)"

 

Bucky comes in, sweaty from a jog, to find nearly everyone in the Tower staring at something on the dining room table.

"What’re you guys looking at?"

"NOTHING," Clint says far too loudly.


	48. D/S Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves semaphore flags around wildly* NO LONGER SFW! THIS POST IS A NON-SFW AREA! TURN BACK NOW OR FACE THE CONSEQUENCES

> "[something smutty and D/s-y involving Steve, Bucky, and orgasm denial](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/111908324401/something-smutty-and-d-s-y-involving-steve-bucky)"

 

"Please," Bucky begs.

"If you come, you won’t get my cock later." Steve strokes Bucky’s side patiently, other hand pressing the vibrator more firmly against Bucky’s opening. The faint buzz does nothing to drown out the little moans, the quiet rasp of the sheets, the way Bucky’s breath stops entirely for a moment when Steve sinks his teeth in to Bucky’s throat.

"Please let me. Just once."

"You can," Steve repeats patiently, "but if you do, you won’t get my cock." Steve adjusts his grip on the vibrator, getting it at the right angle to press in the first inch. Bucky cries out, struggling against Steve’s grip in an effort to get more. Steve’s leg comes up to pin him down by the hips as well, free hand moving from his side to his throat and cupping lightly. Bucky goes completely still. "You’re being bad."

Bucky swallows thickly. “M’sorry.”

"Will you be good?"

"Yes."

Steve brushes his lips against Bucky’s skin in a ghost of a kiss, starting to fuck Bucky with the first two inches of the vibrator in a slow rhythm. Bucky, who is at least allowed to make noise, groans loudly.


	49. Misc Short Prompts VI

 

 

>  
> 
>  
> 
> "[Thin white skin AU - The Avengers assemble!](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/112546980646/thin-white-skin-au-the-avengers-assemble)"

Natasha’s intel turns out to be right - they  _are_ holding Sobaka in a SHIELD bunker outside of DC, and he  _is_  unharmed. The screen shows him sitting in a chair, right leg crossed over his left, tapping his arm impatiently.

Bucky squints at the surveillance feed. “Right over left and tapping means nonlethal trap, right?”

"Yes," Natasha confirms, and glares at Steve when he drops the drained body of the security guard too carelessly. The sound of his gun clacking against the floor might alert someone. Steve shrugs and wipes his mouth.

"So we take this way, and…" Bucky glances over at Stark. "What’re you doing?"

"Setting off the alarms on the other side of the compound," Tony says, hands punching a few more buttons on the control panel. "You did drag me away from my weekend plans to be  _useful_ , right?”

Red lights begin flashing overhead. Dimly, they can hear a mechanical woman’s voice repeating a warning about Sector 2.

"I’ve already memorized the layout. Come on." Tony twirls around and heads for the door, stopping short when a tall black man with an eye patch appears and blocks his way.

"Oh good," the man says to Steve, gesturing to Tony. "You brought Stark too. This makes things much more convenient for me."

Tony’s suit whirs. Steve’s fingers crack, curling into fists. “You really think you could take on one of us, let alone all of us?”

"I’m not here to  _fight_ ,” the man says. “I’m here to talk to you about an initiative.” 

* * *

 

 

 

>  
> 
>  
> 
> "[Werewolf Steve would like to politely ask you to point your gun away from Bucky before he rips your throat out, please and thank you. (Bucky is unimpressed all around)](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/112547102481/werewolf-steve-would-like-to-politely-ask-you-to)"

"I’ll ask one more time," the Nazi scumbag says, gesturing with his sidearm and glaring like Barnes is the cheekiest, most disrespectful American he’s ever met in his life, "we went to your camp and we collected you, Jones, Dougan, Dernier, Falsworth, and Morita. No one else for miles but a damn stray dog.  _Where is Captain Rogers?_ ”

Bucky meets his eyes, tears leaking out from trying not to laugh. The Nazi scoffs.

"It ain’t you," Bucky promises, infuriatingly relaxed in the chair he’s tied to. "It’s _Rogers_. I figured the serum, you - you know the super-serum, right? The stuff they gave ‘im?”

"Yes, Sergeant,  _everyone_ knows of the super-serum. What does that have to do with anything? Does it grant him invisibility? Teleportation?”

"I can tell you what it  _didn’t_ apparently do,” Bucky crows. “It didn’t-“

Bucky’s cut off as a dog lunges from the shadows, mouth instantly biting into the Nazi’s right wrist and wrenching the gun from it. He’d been stupid enough to point the gun downwards for a moment, giving just the opportunity needed, and now the pistol was clattering to the floor and the man was screaming in German, calling for help. The dog nudged the gun into the corner with his nose, chasing after it. In the time it takes the kraut to get to his feet and reach for the door Steve has picked up the gun and fired it twice into his back. When the door opens and the guards appear, they drop just as quickly.

"You still turn into that little  _mutt_ of a-“

"Shut up, Bucky."

"No  _wonder_ you hid it until now! You’re still a little poodley -“

"I am  _not_  a goddamn  _poodle_. Do you want me to rescue you or not?”

* * *

 

 

>  
> 
>  
> 
> "[Some more information about Dog!Steve and Bucky? Maybe about their lives with Tony? Or just something sad/fluffy?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/112547569551/some-more-information-about-dog-steve-and-bucky)"

Steve is well-trained. He sleeps at the foot of the bed where he’s instructed to do so, understanding the boundary. Even when he noses Tony and licks his nearest appendage to wake him up from a nightmare, more often than not Steve has figured out a way to do this by only stretching himself as far as possible across the mattress,  _maybe_  with his front paws on it, without ever actually climbing all the way onto it.

Bucky needs a little more direction. He has clearly never been an “indoor” dog before; he naps in doorways, doesn’t understand why he’s not supposed to be on the most comfortable spot in the room if Tony’s not on it, and leaves huge splashes all around the water bowl in the kitchen.

Tony discovers he doesn’t really care. Bucky never leaves fur on the couch he’s not supposed to be on. The upgraded Roomba handles the kitchen floor. He learns to look where he walks.

**

They don’t do dog parks often. When they do, Steve bounds after the tennis ball for as long as Tony will indulge him, and Bucky, after the first few visits of sitting shaking in the corner of the fenced-in area, learns he can play with the other dogs without getting in trouble. Tony takes videos of the tiny chihuahua running through Bucky’s legs and sends them to Pepper.

**

The dogs snore sometimes, but Tony snores louder.

**

It’s apparently pretty common for abused dogs to distrust certain groups of people. Bucky’s not an exception.

"Your new dog is racist," Rhodey accuses irritatedly, looking over his shoulder and scowling as he gets followed no matter what room he walks into. "I feel like I’m in a damn grocery store."

"He’s not racist, he’s  _misandrist_.” Tony sinks further into the sofa, looking away from the screen as soon as the game switches to commercial. “He had a solid three-feet requirement from me until about last week.”

Rhodey tilts his head, looking at Bucky and walking backwards into the hallway, then the foyer. “Tony.  _Tell this dog I saved you_. Tell him I’m a good guy. I feel like he’s gonna eat me.”

"Is he growling?"

"No."

"Showing you his teeth?"

"No."

"Good. Those things are fuckin’ terrifying." Tony takes a pull on his beer. "Come sit. He’ll get over you."

Just within Tony’s field of vision, he sees Steve get up from next to the couch to trot into the foyer, curious to see what has Bucky’s attention. When Rhodey comes back and sits down, he now has an audience of two.

"And they don’t do this to Pepper?"

"Nope." Tony pops the ‘p’ sound. "Bucky lets her  _pet him_. She does the little scalp rubs and you’d think she’d fed him opiates.”

Rhodey mutters something under his breath and grabs his beer.

**

**

When Obi made his plans to kill Tony, he had accounted for Steve.

**

**

The cops take Obi away. The EMT checks Tony out, the on-call vet checks Steve out, and finally, after coaxing him out of the basement, the vet checks Bucky out too. Washes the blood off, determines there’s no wounds, gives him a few pats on the head.

Bucky doesn’t look proud of himself. He looks scared. Tony’s pretty sure the only reason he finally came upstairs was to make sure Steve was moving again. The vet says the tranq should wear off entirely in a few hours.

The doctor goes home. The vet goes home. Tony elects to take a bath over a shower, legs still shaking, and climbs into bed.

He lays down and stares at the ceiling for a few seconds. “Up,” he says, and waits.

Nothing. He pushes himself up on his elbows and sees that Steve’s tail is wagging in confused optimism and Bucky’s hiding his nose behind the desk. “Up,” Tony says again, and Steve finally decides he must mean it, because he hops onto the bed, wagging and snuffling, walking around the new territory for a few moments before plopping down on Tony’s right side and burrowing his nose into his armpit. Tony pets him absently and looks at Bucky. “Bucky, up.” Bucky hides more. “Bucky. Come. Up.”

Bucky, distressed, starts edging toward the doorway. Steve makes a grumpy sort of sound and gets up, hopping off the bed and ‘herding’ Bucky to where he’s been instructed to go. Tony watches as Bucky finally hops up, stares at Tony like he’s waiting for the shouting, and then finally sits, mirroring Steve, eyes still locked on Tony.

"G’boy," Tony tells him.

Bucky’s tail thumps against his shin.

**

When Stark finally starts doing interviews again, he explains them both by saying that Steve is the dog designated with keeping him sane, and that Bucky is the dog designated with keeping Steve sane for having to keep  _Tony_  sane.


	50. Thor/Steve/Bucky (Electric Swing) Prompt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [NSFW](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/112573534086/can-you-do-a-little-thor-steve-bucky-fluff). Started as fluff, turned into smut.

"He seems unsettled by me," Thor remarks, looking at the door Bucky just went through. Steve rubs his eyebrow.

"You  _are_  literally an alien,” Steve points out, and Thor tilts his head mildly as if this was a good point he had not yet considered.

**

Steve had talked to Bucky about Thor before they came up to New York - that he had a relationship with someone in the Avengers. That he had thought Bucky had been long dead when he initiated it.

Bucky, still mute, had glared up at him as if he was  _insulted_  that Steve thought he had to justify such a thing to him. But just because Bucky was at peace with it didn’t mean Steve could expect Bucky to share a room with him.

**

It’s a long road to Bucky getting some personal autonomy back, but once he does he has a hard time hearing ‘no’ on anything. When he slides his hand up Steve’s shirt, Steve says he thinks they should wait a little longer. That turns out to be something of a mistake.

Depending on how you look at it. Steve, hand still on his bedroom door and staring as Bucky ruts wantonly against Thor as he pins him to the wall, isn’t sure what to think for a few seconds.

"C-Captain," Thor finally says, eyes fluttering closed a moment when Bucky does something particularly good to the side of his throat. "He said he wanted to discuss something. I did not realize he’d planned-"

"It’s fine," Steve cuts in sharply, and finally shuts the door behind him. Bucky stands at attention, eyes bright and huge like they used to go back when they were teenagers. Steve feels that old urge to order him onto his knees and _behave_  for once.

"Hi," Bucky says, in the voice that says he plans to misbehave until he’s satisfied.

Steve’s expression drips with disapproval. “You want him too, or are you just leadin’ him on?”

Bucky smiles calmly and rolls his hips, denim of his jeans rasping against the fabric of Thor’s trousers. “You kiddin’ me? Why  _wouldn’t_  I want both?”

Over his shoulder, Thor is giving him a serious look mixed with lust.  _Only if you permit it,_  he is saying.

Steve thinks about it. Sighs, finally, and reaches out to take Bucky by the scruff. “Well, if you’re going to do him, you might as well do him right. Ready to listen?”

Bucky’s smile is bliss. “Yessir.”


	51. Ridiculous Prompts

 

> "[Steve and Bucky in a strip-tease-off with Sam and Natasha as the judges!](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/114274998911/prompt-steve-and-bucky-in-a-strip-tease-off-with)"

Sam watches as Bucky’s avatar jumps onto the nearest bar stool, then table. He adjusts his headset.

“Bucky, I said we have to go toward the yellow arrow. Do you see it on your map? That’s our quest.”

“Quest can wait.” Bucky’s voice is amused in his ear, and Sam turns to share a confused look with Natasha. “Let me use some of this Future 101 bullshit to do something fun, okay?”

“We’re  _playing a game_ , Bucky,” Natasha reminds him.

Bucky doesn’t seem to be listening. “Steve, I’m sure you remember 1942 in a small pub near the Polish border.”

“What?” Steve sounds just as mystified as everyone else.

“C’mon, pal, there’s no way you could forget the contest of the century! Dougan versus Jones. They shoulda made posters.”

A beat. “Oh my  **god** ,” Steve says suddenly. “I… I think I’d blocked that out.”

Sam glances to Natasha again, but she’s just shrugging, moving over own avatar to the corner of the room to get a better view of what they’re doing. Steve’s avatar has run back into the pub and jumped on the next table, knocking some plates onto the ground.

“How do we even do this?” Steve asks.

“The emote options for the different movements.”

“No, how do I-”

“Your inventory, stupid. Just piece-by-piece, take-”

“No, no, I mean, someone has to  _judge_.”

“Oh.” Bucky pauses. “Sam and Nat can do it.”

“What are we judging, exactly?” Sam steps past a wandering NPC to see that they’ve both started to use the ‘dancing’ emotes they’d been taught about five minutes ago.

“You’ll see,” Steve and Bucky say in unison.

 

* * *

 

> "[Bucky learning that Steve can pole dance?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/112620308171/bucky-learning-that-steve-can-pole-dance)"

The support beams in Tony’s shop are used for a lot of things, but Bucky never takes much notice of them until Clint suggests that Steve should dance on one of them.

"How would that be done?" Bucky asks quizzically, looking at the steel beam - roughly four inches in diameter and perpendicular from the floor to the eight foot ceiling. When he looks back over, Steve’s face is red.

"Wait, wait," Tony puts the soldering tools down. "What am I missing here?"

Clint’s grin gets comically huge. “Steve went on a-“

"Natasha  _told_  you about that?” Steve says, voice weirdly high.

"Natasha and I talk about  _everything_ ,” Clint says, like a mother who has a close relationship with her child.

Bucky looks at Steve in a silent demand for information. Steve’s face goes redder, and he glances sidelong at Tony like he knows he’ll never live this down. “When I worked for SHIELD, Natasha kept… setting me up on dates, and,”

"And one of them took him on a couple’s pole-dancing class for their first date," Clint says in a rush, unable to wait for the payoff.

Tony’s mouth is wide open. He does not look like he’s aware of it.

Bucky nods, understanding the sentence but not the meaning. “And pole-dancing involves… dancing around a pole?”

"SHOW HIM," Tony demands loudly, and Steve looks very much like he wants to hit him.

* * *

 

 

> "[‘i called the wrong number and started talking about my life and you only interrupted me after a few a few minutes of me revealing some pretty personal stuff and now youre invested in my life troubles’ au. Bucky n Steve, preferably tiny!Steve](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/113605784086/i-called-the-wrong-number-and-started-talking)"

 

At first Bucky thinks the guy might’ve hung up, but then there’s a sort of sigh on the other end, and Bucky sits up fast enough to make his head spin. He rubs at his face with the hand still holding the tequila bottle.

“Well,” the voice on the other end says, “it sounds like you need to get over her.”

“It ain’t that  _simple_ , man, you know it’s not. She’s perfect and she just… walked away? I’m supposed to just…forget about her? Can  _you_  just… forget about a girl, after they’ve gotten all under your skin and…” He trails off.

“I’ve never really been given the opportunity to get over getting dumped,” the guy says. He sounds sort of amused and sort of bitter.

“Huh? Man, you’ve really never been dumped before? Of course not. You sound like some kinda… fuckin’… model. I dunno. You sound like you’re seven feet tall, man, you…” Bucky trails off as he hears the other guy laughing. “I’m right, aren’t I.”

“Yeah,” the guy says, after a weird pause, “you got me, alright.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says, leaning against the tub and putting the bottle down. “Shoulders so big you walk sideways into rooms.”

“Down to a T, pal.”

“I bet you’re blond, too.” Bucky’s fingertips slide under his jeans. “Say, whatcha wearin’?”


	52. Cute Prompts

> "[It's Not Linear-verse, Sam having the birds help him do something romantic for Janet?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/114323118176/its-not-linear-verse-sam-having-the-birds-help)"

 

“Spangled cotingas,” Janet says, giggling behind a hand. “They’re my favorite.”

Steve leans forward to see the birds better, conveniently creating a large wall between Janet and Bucky, who is trying not to look excited or like he’s trying really badly to keep a secret. “They’re beautiful,” he says, watching them as they perch on the clothesline behind Clint’s farmhouse. “I guess the plain one is the female and the turquoise one is the male?”

Janet nods, pulling out her phone to take a picture. “He must’ve sent them along to apologize that he couldn’t come on vacation with us? I mean, they’re not from _anywhere_ near here.”

“Sure doesn’t look like it,” Bucky agrees, doing his best impression of someone who doesn’t know what’s going on.

Steve conjures a look of surprise as some songbirds join them on the clothesline. “Oh,” he says, and catches Janet’s iced tea as she nearly knocks it over in surprise.

“How many did he  _send!?_ I told him I wasn’t mad that he…” She trails off as some sparrows join them, and finally a falcon, who circles a few times before landing a polite distance away on the unused picnic chair. A ribbon is wrapped several times around its left talon. “Is it… holding something?”

“Looks like a little box,” Steve comments with a feigned air of ignorance, leaning forward a little more to hide the fact that Bucky is  _clearly_  looking toward the far side of the farmhouse and waiting for Sam to turn the corner.

 

* * *

 

> "[the downsides of sharing a bed with pre- and/or post-serum Steve.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/112619742851/prompt-the-downsides-of-sharing-a-bed-with-pre)"

 

In their apartment, Steve indulges Bucky’s love of cuddling for about ten minutes before he scoots to his edge of the bed and establishes his space bubble. It’s not that he’s not cold - Bucky knows he  _must_  be - it’s that if it’s not his back, it’s his joints, and he can barely get comfortable enough to sleep on his own, let alone with someone “hanging on to him”.

Bucky understands. His fingertips creep across the space between them, brushing against the notches of Steve’s spine as they both fall asleep. That’s not too much.

After, though, it’s different.

"You’re sure?" Steve asks, and even though Bucky isn’t comfortable vocalizing his feelings yet, he can nod, and so Steve pulls the sheet the rest of the way up and gets in. His body is impossibly warm, soft but firm, all bony angles gone. Bucky takes a calming breath and burrows into it.

"You used to." Bucky clears his throat a little, pushing through the words. "Not like this."

_Thank you for doing it anyway_ , he’s trying to say.

Steve turns onto his side. Not away from Bucky but  _toward_  him. His chest is huge and unfamiliar but if Bucky closes his eyes and breathes in and thinks back, he can verify that he smells the same. His fingertips trace little patterns in Bucky’s scalp like they used to. When things were different.

"I’ll do this every night, if you’ll let me," Steve says, and Bucky feels his throat close as he burrows closer under the safety of the blankets.

 

* * *

 

> "[Bucky reacting badly to fireworks on 4th of July. lots o’ fluff.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/114277220716/otter-with-a-labrys-answered-your-post-prompts)"

 

Another one cracks a few miles to the northwest, and Steve catches Bucky’s fingers clench in the corner of his eye.

“You can leave the table,” he says sharply, and in a flash Bucky has dropped his fork and dashed off, down the hall, chair kicked back hard enough that it’s still sliding into the wall when Tony puts his slice of pizza down and gestures in shock.

“I thought he was past the whole Needing Permission for Everything Thing,” Tony is saying, as Natasha puts her slice down and begins dabbing her mouth as she stands up.

“The fireworks set him back,” Steve murmurs. He retrieves Bucky’s chair, checking the hardwood floor for any marks, before pushing it back in.

“He told me twenty damn minutes ago they weren’t bothering him,” Sam says under his breath. “Fuck this holiday. You guys go, I’ll clean up the plates.”

Tony rubs at his face. “We’ll fly up to Canada next year,” he promises.

**

Steve’s not sure where to start looking first, except that music is playing from his room that he never put on. When he and Natasha walk in, Bucky’s boots are haphazardly piled in the corner and he’s on the bed, curled up and holding a pillow to his chest.

“There are some soundproof rooms for vibration testing downstairs,” Natasha says, and sits on the edge of the bed. When another firework pops off in the distance, Bucky cringes. “…wanna stay here anyway?”

“Yes, please.” His voice is quiet. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Steve pushes the door shut and takes his shoes off, trying to assess the damage. “What do you need?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry. I’ll be better soon. I just need to stay here.”

“You like it here because it smells nice,” Natasha says gently, sharing a wry little smile with Steve. Picking up on her idea, Steve rounds the bed, sitting down in his line of vision and tilting his head.

“Because it smells like us? So it’d be even better if you could…?”

Bucky’s eyes are still shut, allowing Steve to examine it entirely - it looks like he’s trying hard not to answer. “Please,” he says finally, and then bites his lip and ducks his head in. Steve moves in immediately and pulls Bucky’s head to his chest. When he hears a bit of movement and feels Nat’s fingertips brushing his ribs, he knows she’s taken the other side.

“Much better,” Natasha says in a quiet voice. “You’re right here with us. You’ve been lots of places before, but right now, you’re here in Steve’s room, safe, with us. Right?”

“Right,” Bucky agrees, and as he uncurls from himself he seems torn on which body to lean into. Steve saves him from the decision by pulling him in closer, giving Natasha the option to press in more from her side. (She does, of course. And in a somewhat surprising and very pleasing turn of events, she brushes her arm along Bucky’s side in a way that lets her stroke along Steve’s ribs, too. Steve buries a shiver.) “Mmm.”

“We squishing you flat yet?” Steve asks. The mess of brown hair beneath his chin shakes a ‘no’. “Should we keep trying?”

Bucky’s arm reaches out just enough to hook under Steve’s arm, holding him there.

 

* * *

 

> "[the difficulties of bed-sharing when you're trying to stuff all members of the Barbershop Quartet on a normal size mattress.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/113553873891/mm-prompt-the-difficulties-of-bed-sharing-when)"

 

Steve learns to become a limpet around Bucky, who is prone to rolling around or even rolling  _out_  of the bed if left to his own devices. So Bucky often takes the edge of the bed, where he can stretch out with a leg or an arm flung off the mattress to ensure he doesn’t feel too trapped. (Sometimes Steve wraps an arm across his chest and also sleeps with his nose buried in Bucky’s hair, which is, perhaps, Bucky’s favorite.)

When Bucky also needs Natasha, he settles between them, hand delicately laid over her stomach and settled carefully between her arm and her side. She strokes his hair and encourages him to trace the lines of her hips, her collarbone, whatever helps him calm down.

Sam cuddles when he’s awake but not when he’s asleep - he takes the side of the bed against the wall, petting Nat and occasionally kissing her hair before finally rolling over onto his side, finding a pleasant calm in the shared warmth of the blankets.

The biggest problem, honestly, is when someone needs to move. Steve will try to get up sometimes to have Bucky hook a leg over him and hold him to the mattress,  _still asleep_ , hand curling needfully around Steve’s bicep in a beg for him to stay. Sam’s a light sleeper and tends to wake up when Bucky gets up in the middle of the night to jog off the extra energy, because no matter how carefully Bucky gets up, he moves the blankets.

(They have tried giving Sam his own blankets so that they won’t be dislodged when this happens, but Sam found that the loss of shared warmth was not worth it.)

On very rare occasions Natasha will wake up from something unnamed and start rearranging people - she will gently disentangle Steve from Bucky, or vice versa, and push Steve onto his back so she can sleep on top of him, ear to his heartbeat and hips fitted in the crux of his legs. Bucky has learned to accept this without complaint and to simply turn and latch onto Sam’s arm instead. After it happened the first time when they were both barely conscious, they seem to have an understanding that it’s both not discussed and perfectly suitable for both of them.


	53. AU of an AU with an AU Prompt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For an exchange with Blu. The babbu from [Old Lullabies](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1792459) meets the babbus from [Blue Scales](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3347195). If you haven't read both of those, this will make verrrry little sense.

The bad news about the portal is that Jane was right, and it did pull something out of another dimension and drop it into their world before they could contain it. The good news was that the something was just a small child, and Jane had enough experience with transdimensional travel to pinpoint where he came from and draw up a plan for how to send him back.

"It's gonna take at least a few days," Jane says, smiling apologetically. "Is there any chance you two could, um, babysit for a while?"

"Oh, just 'cause we've already got four, you think we won't notice if you sneak another one in?" Bucky takes on a fake put-upon expression.

Darcy, on the other side of the lab, pipes up: "Actually, it's because he keeps asking for you two specifically."

**

His name turns out to be Todd. He's only about six months older than the guppies, and is exceedingly good-natured. The only hiccups are his assumption that Steve and Bucky both speak fluent Russian - they can't work that one out - and that he keeps pinching Bucky's left arm. (They can't work that one out either, but after being told a second time he seems to work out that yes, it  _does hurt_ , and he apologizes in Dutch and doesn't do it again.)

A lot of pool stuff accumulated in the house before the guppies were even born - styrofoam-like things called 'pool noodles', floaties, and one perfectly sized inner tube with a duck face on the front. Todd gets into it with obvious excitement and leans over the edge of the pool, looking at the four little shadows.

" _Your_  babies!?" He repeats, pointing to them both.

"Yes," Bucky says patiently, smiling as Pippin surfaces first to see who's there. Their eyes go wide as they see each other. "Pip, this is Todd. Can you say hello?"

Pippin blinks and disappears under the water again. Todd makes an 'ooh' sound and Bucky pats his shoulder. "They're shy sometimes," Bucky explains, but Pippin's already back, now with Rosie.

 _Hi_ , Rosie signs with chubby hands, and Bucky laughs.

"Can you use your words, Rosie?"

"Hiiiiiiiiiiii," Rosie sings, and Todd giggles uproariously and waves with both hands.

**

Jasper takes it upon himself to nudge Todd's inner tube around from behind, making train sounds as he goes. Todd talks at length with Rosie, who keeps trying to teach him to press his legs together and concentrate to make his tail show up. (Bucky suspects that this kid is going to get sent home sure that if he keeps working at it, he, too, can have a tail.)

"Seeb," Todd calls after about twenty minutes. "Can I have a snack peas?"

"Yes," Steve says, realizing belatedly that this child probably doesn't eat things cooked in whale fat and may need some more calories to balance out all the swimming. "Yes, absolutely. What would you like to have?"

Todd considers it, palm comically rubbing against his chin as Jasper pushes him over to the steps of the pool so he can get out. From the far side, Clara hops out and starts pulling on her tank top with awkward toddler hands. "Cackers," Todd says finally. "Peas."

"Sure. Gups, you want crackers too?" The ones above water chime in agreement. "I'll get that and some juice. Um. Natasha, do you mind keeping an eye on them for a second?"

"No problem." Natasha, who proves yet again that no situation can throw her off balance, kneels down and helps Todd out of the inner tube so he can get wrapped in a large towel.

"Natama, your hair is preddy."

"<Thank you.>" She says in Russian, and smiles at his look of astonishment and excitement.

**

By the time Steve comes back with everything from the kitchen, Natasha's toweled off the gups and wrangled them into their long shirts. Pippin is watching Todd do something with a holo-screen, pulling up a video of a large shark. Jasper and Rosie are listening to Natasha lay out the ground rules for having a human for a sleepover guest: humans can't sleep under water. Humans sleep in beds. No, you may not expect him to sleep  _by_ the water as Bucky often does.

**

Todd seems slightly put off by the idea that Bucky doesn't know him, but seems extraordinarily happy whenever Bucky smiles or laughs or makes a joke. Bucky makes a point of doing extra 'monster-attacks' with him (which the gups can all too easily wriggle free from, half the time) and of letting him sit in his lap as often as he likes. He's doing pretty well for a displaced child who's in a not-quite-right copy of his world.

Bucky has to get up to answer a call from Wakanda at one point. When he gets back Todd is asleep on Steve's chest, sprawled out like he intends to make a home there.

 _Stuck_ , Steve signs one-handedly, the other hand huge and gentle on Todd's back.

 _He's cute_  , Bucky responds, getting comfortable in the chaise next to him and looking at the small ring of napping babies in the pool.   _Good... child friend. How do you say it?_

 _Playmate._   Steve grins.   _Kind of sad we'll have to give him back._

**

Todd is good for the kids because he gives them motivation to use their feet. He watches with interest as they sit on the water's edge and wiggle their way to getting their toes, feet, shins, knees, and they seem happy to show off. (Rosie's still not sold that Todd couldn't do it himself if he just concentrated enough.)

"Tag?" Pippin suggests, in a rare moment of initiation. Todd bites his lip and looks at the pool room, clearly trying to work something out.

"Can't run by pools," he mumbles, as if reciting something important. "Um, maybe, maybe the living room."

Bucky shares a look with Steve, who shrugs and grins. 

**

One shattered lamp and many apologies later, they settle on hide and seek. Jasper and Clara work together to push Todd onto the highest possible shelf of the linen closet where Rosie might not be able to spot him. Steve honestly isn't sure where Pippin's hid himself until he goes to get a drink from the refrigerator and spots him in the vegetable drawer.

**

"Where did he find you?" Todd asks on the second night, right before bedtime.

"Whad'ya mean?" Rosie asks, teetering dangerously on tiptoe to add another block to the top of the structure.

"Buggy found me in an alley," Todd explains evenly, causing Bucky's head to rise in silent alarm. "An' my mom was dead and my dad wasn't a good dad so he kept me."

Steve and Bucky share a look of astonishment as Jasper replies nonchalantly: "Papa laid eggs and Daddy turned the eggs into babies. They made us."

"Ohhhh." Todd seems to be pondering this. "I fought they found you in a pond or something."

" _No!_ " Clara says, offended. "Merfolk don't come from ponds."

"I didn't knowwwww that. There aren't any merfolk where I come f'om." Todd keeps adding blocks to the base of the tower in an effort to prepare it for all the stuff Rosie's adding to the top.

"Maybe they're jus' secret," Jasper points out.

"You fink so?" Todd sounds intrigued by the idea. "How do you find 'em?"

"Cackers," Pippin suggests seriously, and Todd responds with a belly laugh.

**

On the third morning, Jane kneels down to explain to Todd that the portal is almost ready to take him home. She's going to make the time he was gone as short as possible, so his family will only think he's been gone for a few moments. An hour, tops.

Todd considers this. "Will I get in t'ouble?" He asks seriously.

Jane blinks. "Trouble?"

"Cause I was gone," Todd elaborates. "Will I not get cookies."

"You... will not get in trouble," Jane decides, and Todd seems to accept this.

**

 _Snack_ , Jasper signs again, slower. 

Todd's brows come together.  _Repeating_ , he signs by accident.

"Nuh-uh."  _Snack._

Todd's fingers tangle together and he makes a small irritated sound.

**

"I miss  _my_ Bucky," Todd confides to Steve that afternoon.

"Oh yeah?" Steve hoists him up a little higher on his hip and looks down at him. "I bet he misses you too. What's he like?"

"He  _never_ kisses Seeb," Todd says decisively. "And they don't make babies."

"But they take care of you?"

"Yeah, but they don't  _maaake_ babies."

"Ah." Steve considers this. Maybe they don't want to expose their child to sexuality too soon or something. Humans can be particular about these things. "What else?"

Todd thinks about it. "Tony makes his lef' arm."

Steve can't parse that one. "Okay. What else?"

"Screaming makes him scared. And big groups." Todd hmms. "He's sad a lot."

"Oh." Steve frowns. "But I bet you make him happy, right?"

Todd nods, as if impressed that Steve is smart enough to know this. "And he makes me pasta."

Steve gasps theatrically. "He turns you into pasta!?"

" _Nooo!_ " Todd laughs, trying to wiggle away now. "Noooooo."

"That's terrible," Steve continues with mock indignation. "Nobody should ever turn you into pasta."

"Noooooooooooo."

**

Bucky comes to relieve Sam of his babysitting shift. "How're we doing in here?"

Sam gestures out to the water, where Clara and Pippin have pulled a bunch of the unused 'human baby' pool toys out and begin messing with them. Pippin is trying to balance on a pool noodle while Clara decorates the bottom with the multicolored sticks that are supposed to be thrown and retrieved. "Littlest gups in the water," Sam reports, then points to Jasper and Rosie in the corner. "Biggest gups watching tv. Non-gup doing some schoolwork to try and not fall behind, which," Sam reaches out to pull up a holo-copy of the screen Todd is working on. It's multiplication. "Lookit this."

Bucky leans forward and squints at it. "...okay, in the forties, we weren't doing this at five or six."

"Same now, man. He's doing middle school work." Sam raises his eyebrows. "I can't figure out half his stories about his world back home, but I think he's telling 'em right and I just don't have enough context. Kid's smart."

Bucky gets comfortable in a chair and looks at Todd assessingly across the pool. He's curled up in a sham-wow towel and reaching out to move numbers around, getting them just right before hitting 'submit'. They all turn green. "What's he been saying?"

"There 'aren't any tails' where he comes from. Not even on Steve." Sam shrugs. "And 'Buggy' goes to doctors a lot because he's sad. But he's getting better. Something about Hydra taking him and being mean to him."

"Hydra." Bucky frowns. "Before Steve serumed up and saved me?"

"No, after that. I don't know. I don't really get it." Sam shakes his head. "Maybe it's better we don't know."

"Hm." Bucky feels a strange pang of sympathy for someone he's never met. Who, at the same time, is him. "What's he say about you?"

"That I take him to school every day, and make him grilled cheese sandwiches." Sam is grinning, possibly without realizing he's doing it. "And I'm dating Mabel's mommy."

"Ohhh, I've heard him mention Mabel." Bucky laughs. "He must trust you a lot, to let you date into that family."

"No kiddin'." Sam looks across the room again to watch Todd go to the cooler full of juice boxes. He picks one out, pauses, and then grabs two more, carrying the bundle over to Jasper and Rosie.

**

Clara toddles over, looking at Bucky accusingly and then at the sleeping Todd curled up next to him on the sofa. 

"Come sit over here," Bucky suggests, switching his book to the other hand and patting the left side of the couch.

Clara continues to glare at Todd. Things have been okay up until now - Clara has not felt her tiny kingdom has been threatened up until this point. She looks like she's on her way to a good sulk.

"C'mere," Bucky repeats, and pulls a throw pillow over for her to rest her head on. "You can hold my hand while I read."

Getting to hold Bucky's hand, whereas Todd does  _not,_ seems to satisfy her. She scrambles up onto the sofa, tugging her tank top down fussily and then curling up on the pillow. Bucky strokes her hair for a while and finally curls his hand around her tiny one. She nuzzles into it, not letting go for anything, and drifts off before long.

**

Todd peeks over the edge of the breakfast table. "Jane?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you ever talk to your baby?"

Jane looks up from the simulation. "...talk to my what?"

"Your baby." Todd points to her stomach. "You say 'quit it, quit it' and then you stomp and you say 'fine' and then you eat something weird."

Bucky makes a concentrated effort to look like a man who cannot hear any of this discussion.

Jane clears her throat. "Um, Todd, you have to remember that some things are different between our worlds." 

"So you don't talk to your baby."

"I don't have one, actually."

Todd scrutinizes her stomach through her blouse. "No baby yet?"

"There's no  _yet,_ " Bucky interrupts, gently picking Todd up and putting him back in his booster seat. "Maybe this Jane isn't gonna have one. Or not right now. It's not nice to ask ladies things like that."

"Oh." Todd squirms in his booster seat, frowning to himself. "I'm sorry Miss Jane."

"It's. It's okay, honey."

When Thor strides in a few minutes later looking for the source of the bacony smell, Jane shoots Bucky a very pointed look that he understands instantly:  _it will not be discussed._

Bucky nods dutifully. He knows better than to contradict an order like that.

**

Darcy pulls up the screen and explains it to Bucky:

"There's a mass limit. He can go back with  _less_ mass than he came over with, but not more. And since he's a teacup human, he's steadily weighing a little more every day."

"Not by much, though," Bucky says with an inflection at the end.

"Nah, not by much." Darcy moves some numbers around. "All we gotta do is send him back without shoes. Maybe shorts instead of pants, too. That'll be more than enough compensation, and gives us several ounces of wiggle room."

"Keepin' the kid's shoes," Bucky echoes. "Check."

"I wanna send him back with a note," Darcy says quietly, leaning closer so Bruce can't hear across the lab. "Something like, 'your child is very well-behaved. Feel free to drop him off any time.'"

Bucky considers it.


	54. Fluffy Prompts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who noticed some downtime on Blue Scales, an explanation is [here](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/116513098976/hello-i-just-wanted-to-say-that-i-cant-find-blue)...
> 
> Okay. On to the drabbles!

> "[Bucky keeps ending up upside-down when co-sleeping. Partner of your choice, post WS, he can't really explain it.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/114902201596/bucky-keeps-ending-up-upside-down-when)"

 

“Do you have, like, a foot thing?”

Bucky doesn’t feel secure enough to verbally ask what that means, so instead he just looks at Sam with a slightly confused expression. Sam just shrugs.

“Do you keep ending up snuggling up near my feet because you like ‘em,” the man elaborates.

Bucky considers this. Sam’s feet are fine. They don’t smell, they aren’t… _misshapen_ , or otherwise repelling, but there’s nothing about feet, or even specifically  _Sam’s_ feet, that would explain why he keeps ending up doing this. Apparently this is evident from his face, because Sam continues:

“It’s pretty common for people to move around in bed if they’re stressed.”

This is common. Not the moving, but the way Sam is saying this, the way he words it as if it could be anyone that does this. It is never  _anyone_  that could do whatever Bucky did. It is always something to do with the newly-coined “PTSD”, or with trauma, or with whatever else is causing Bucky to do something strange. Bucky looks at the window frame, and then at the floor. He does not choose to do this, and so he cannot choose to not do it. It is strange. Maybe he will not be allowed to sleep with Sam anymore.

“Hey.”

Bucky looks at Sam.

“Quit looking like that. It’s okay that you don’t know. It’s not a big deal.” Sam reaches out slowly and lays his hand across Bucky’s leg. “It’s okay. Maybe you’ll keep doing it, maybe you’ll move past it, it’s harmless. If I get really tired of it I can just pick up my pillow and go upside-down with you.”

The idea of Sam doing this is ludicrous, and something about it makes Bucky inhale deeply before he chokes down a strange noise, quelling whatever is going on with his face. He knows he must look perplexed by what just happened, concerned, but for some reason Sam is smiling.

 

* * *

 

> "[Smell is a really important trigger for memories, so I'd like to request something with Bucky newly returned in from the cold where he takes comfort in the familiarity of Steve and/or Natasha's scents.](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/116607834161/prompt-smell-is-a-really-important-trigger-for)"

 

Steve worked enough missions with Natasha to be accustomed to her orders. Nat often saw things he’d missed, or had more context for a situation seeing as she’d seen all of the twenty-first century so far, and not just a handful of years. Sometimes she told him to avoid things, to try things, to do things, and it usually ended up with a cleaner mission or a new favorite food or, one notable time, an incredible faux pas avoided on public transportation

When he’s almost out the door to go jogging and she hands him a loose-fitting shirt, he frowns at her.

“Wear this too,” she says simply, and waits for him to nod and start to pull it over his head before turning back and returning to the room where he knows Bucky is still awake, and probably has been all night.

Bucky hasn’t been sleeping the last few days. One or two nights without sleep, he’s fine. It’s almost five days now, and that’s turning out to be bad, making him even more stressed and thus even more wound up. During Steve’s shift Bucky did silent push-ups for an hour and then laid flat in the bed like he was in a coffin, unmoving, breathing steady but painfully, painfully awake.

“Is it cold out?”

Steve looks up. Sam’s gesturing to the long sleeve shirt over top his usual jogging tee, and Steve shrugs, shaking his head. “Natasha gave it to me,” he says, and while Sam hasn’t been around for as long, he picks up pretty quick, because he only slants his mouth in a hint of confusion before shrugging and smacking Steve’s arm in a signal to begin going down the block.

**

When they come back, the living room is still silent. Steve knocks softly on Natasha’s room while Sam gets them some water from the fridge, but there’s no answer. She might still be watching Bucky in his room… there’s almost no chance he’s sleeping, so knocking couldn’t wake him, but Steve can’t bring himself to admit that and make any noise. He joins Sam in the kitchen and takes the bottle offered to him.

“This week’s been rough,” Sam says, and Steve just nods, downing half the bottle and leaning against the fridge.

They stand there in companionable and exhausted silence for a few minutes before the door down the hall opens. Natasha is still in last night’s clothes and her hair is still tied up in the bun. She’s carrying one of Steve’s other shirts in one hand.

“Trade you this for those,” she says calmly, gesturing to the shirt and tee he’s got on.

Steve looks down at them - he hasn’t sweated as much as Sam, thanks to the serum, but the shirts definitely aren’t clean. “I was going to shower,” he says, stripping to the waist and handing her the wad of fabric. “You can keep that one for now.”

“Put this on for a few minutes,  _then_  shower.”

Steve has hit his limit on being too tired to be confused. “Trying to fill up the hamper?”

Natasha just leaves the clean shirt on the counter, taking the two jogging shirts and walking back down the hall. Steve watches her for a few steps, then turns to Sam, who shrugs in the way that means  _I have no idea_  and  _Natasha is inscrutable to simple men such as myself_.

“I don’t get it,” Steve says.

Sam just shrugs again and picks the clean tee off from the counter, offering it to him. “No shirt no shoes no service.”

“Hey.” Steve starts pulling it on. “I pay rent now. Don’t I get a say in-”

“Nope.”

**

Steve watches television for about fifteen minutes before deciding it’s been ‘a few minutes’. Besides, the thin sheen of sweat on him has gone cold and somewhat sticky on his back and sides, even if it’s not enough to show. He strips the shirt off, leaves it folded on the table, and heads to the bathroom.

**

It’s gone when he comes back, clean and dressed, to read the paper. He gets distracted by an article on lobbyists and forgets about it after a few minutes.

**

A few hours later, Sam starts watching television and Natasha comes down the hallway to gesture for him to turn it down. It wasn’t loud, but Natasha doesn’t get bossy for no reason and Sam’s not going to argue the point. He grabs the remote and levels it down to 15% and when Natasha nods and disappears down the hall again, Sam and Steve share a confused look.

**

It occurs to Steve toward dinner when he realizes he still hasn’t seen Natasha, even though it should be Steve’s shift by now. He pulls out his phone.

_Steve Rogers: Is he sleeping?_

Steve waits for the ellipses that indicate that she’s typing a response, but strangely, it doesn’t come. He plays out a few more possible scenarios in his head and is startled when his phone vibrates to indicate a new message - it’s a photo.

It’s taken from the corner of Bucky’s room nearest the door. The vantage point isn’t the best for detail, especially since only the lamp is on and the blinds are drawn, but Steve can identify the familiar curve of Bucky’s shoulder, his back, amid several bunches of fabric. It looks like a t-shirt has been pulled over the single pillow, and the other shirts are haloing his head like some kind of protective circle.

He’s sleeping.

 

* * *

 

> "[Steve/Bucky bathtime](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/116609777366/okay-so-bath-scene-in-circling-back-still-gets-to)"

 

“The things’re really good,” Bucky slurs, stretching for the millionth time from toes to fingertips before relaxing again into Steve’s arms.

“Jets,” Steve says, arching his back a little and sliding his hand from the lip of the jacuzzi into the water. He twines his fingers lazily with Bucky’s and lets out a slow sigh.

Several moments pass. “Jets,” Bucky echoes finally, as if he’s on a delay. Steve barks out a soft laugh. “D’you think it’s bad to fall asleep in water?”

“Serum doesn’t keep us from getting pruny,” Steve muses, letting his body slide just a little bit deeper until the water’s up to his collarbones. Bucky’s leg moves until their calves are brushing.

“But you can’t drown in your sleep or anything, so.”

“Mm.”

“And the water’s not g’nna go cold.”

Steve doesn’t answer this time, just brushes his lips against the sweaty nape of Bucky’s neck before tilting his head back again.

“And,” Bucky says, clearly about to put together another argument for not moving, but Steve doesn’t hear it, because this is sort of like everything that the ice wasn’t, and he doesn’t realize it yet, hasn’t made the connection yet consciously, but something in his bones is unwinding because he’s surrounded by warmth and safety and Bucky couldn’t be closer to him, and all he knows is that he’s drifting off.


	55. More of the Pole-Dancing Prompt

> For crownglass39, who is a gem, continuation of the pole-dancing prompt. ([click here for the first bit](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1925544/chapters/7964142)) (and [here](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/115430120811/bucky-learning-that-steve-can-pole-dance) and [here](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/115794131886/pole-dancing-stucky-for-crownglass39) for the tumblr links)

 

“You didn’t like it?” Bucky hazards, after Tony and Clint have left.

Steve shrugs a little. “Um, it was a date. So. I couldn’t leave.” When Steve peeks over to see how he’s taking this, Bucky seems to be ruminating, then nodding suddenly, as if this makes sense. Bucky had more than one story of a good night that turned boring, a girl that he couldn’t wait to never see again, but of course it would be beyond cruel to leave her at a dance hall or in the malt shop… so he’d endure it. It was just What Was Done.

“But the date was a class?”

“That’s kind of common now. Couples will, um. Do something unconventional together for a first date. Cooking class, or sledding, or… I don’t know. Dinner and a movie is boring, I guess.”

Steve wonders if Bucky remembers any of the times  _they_  went to the movies yet. Maybe it’ll never happen. Maybe Bucky will be as he is now forever - lost, with no past he can reach, always on the cusp of confusion and fear.

“I used to dance,” Bucky says quietly, as if he’s telling himself. Steve blinks and fights the urge to move closer, to urge him to say more.

“Yes,” he says instead, trying not to sound to emotional. “You were really good at it.”

Bucky nods and looks at the support beam again, then at Steve. “I always taught  _you_ , though.”

“Yes.” Steve frowns. “But you - you don’t have to learn this one. I mean, it’s-” And Steve finds himself switching direction mid-sentence, because Bucky’s look of disappointment means he  _wanted_  something, and that, Steve doesn’t even know what that means right now, “-it’s something that… that we’d need different clothes for.”

**

The best Steve can figure is that Bucky’s interested in it because his memories of dancing are some of the few he has that don’t hurt, because it means he gets to try and fail and experience those things without punishment, and maybe,  _maybe_ , because he likes spending time with Steve.

Steve tugs his tank top down so it goes just a few inches past the hem of his shorts, feeling stupid as hell as he goes back down to the labs.

**

_Tony Stark: Did you use Jarvis’s gym scheduling calendar to book two hours in ONE OF MY LABS?_

_Steve Rogers: Yes._

_Tony Stark: Did you MEAN to do that?_

_Steve Rogers: Yes._

_Tony Stark: Is it for what I think it is?_

_Steve Rogers: Not your business._

**

When Steve gets there, Bucky’s cautiously employing the help of DUM-E to move the work tables and miscellaneous debris away from the support beams. He’s wearing exactly what Steve told him he’d need - sleeveless shirt, shorts, no shoes. Steve gets caught up staring at the network of scars visible near the seam of the shirt, wondering how they could have stayed there with the serum, what that must have entailed, when Bucky looks up and straightens, glancing at the cleared area, waiting for an opinion on it.

“It looks good,” Steve says, and shuts the door behind him.

**

**

“I don’t remember many steps,” Bucky confesses, clearly thinking this is going to get in the way of this.

“Oh, it’s. It’s not, um. This isn’t anything like what we used to do, so don’t worry about it.” Steve smiles when Bucky’s shoulders lower a fraction of an inch, which is the new way to tell when he’s relieved about something.

Steve takes a deep breath and works on not being embarrassed about this. It’s not like he can’t  _remember._  His memory’s always been great, better since the serum, and the general mortification he experienced doing these moves in front of a stone-faced instructor and several very, very interested fellow students… makes it even harder to forget.

“So, you never jump  _at_  the pole; you use your momentum to spin  _around_  it while you, um, grip.” Steve gestures. “You want me to…?”

“Yes, please.” Bucky’s giving him his full attention, which is disconcerting. Steve panics as he reaches the beam and switches gears.

“Actually. Climbing! Climbing is really easy for us, um, let’s, I’ll show you climbing. You use your shins to…” Steve hooks his leg around and climbs up a few feet before looking down to see if Bucky seems to understand. Bucky’s looking at his legs, head canted, only slightly bemused. “And then you can sit once you’re up here, you can lean back, and make sure you give yourself a little, um, a little extra room.” Steve grips the pole and leans back, crossing his ankles and trying hard not to start blushing. If he starts getting red, there’s no way he’ll be able to stop it from getting everywhere.

“This is a dance?” Bucky says uncertainly.

“It’ll make sense later. Once you have a few pieces to put together, some music.”

Bucky is unnaturally trusting. “Understood.” He stands a little straighter, waiting for the next demonstration.

Steve slowly loosens his grip, dropping back down. “There’s…” He trails off. “Oh! There’s a kick. Just lean back against the pole like this, and…” He leans back against the beam, putting it at his shoulder, and kicks out to flip himself over. Bucky’s eyes widen. “You like that one?”

Bucky seems reluctant to say either way. “…can I try it?”

“Sure.” Steve is more than happy to give up the floor, moving to the side and letting Bucky take his spot. Bucky leans back and does exactly what Steve did, using the pole as a fulcrum point and kicking up to flip himself over. It’s done with precision, hair fanning across his face as he lands, eyes straight ahead. But there’s life there. He looks  _nervous_.

Steve claps his hands together, and Bucky  _flushes_ , as if unsure what to do with praise, and, cautiously, tries it again. He seems slightly perplexed that he’s being trained to do something that is so simple.

“Can I learn the next step?” Bucky asks.

“Yeah,” Steve says agreeably, and begins to work through the least sexual things he can possibly think of.

**

Bucky actually talks and interacts for the entire forty-five minutes, and even though they don’t really  _talk_  about anything… not anything of substance, really, considering how much they still don’t know about what happened to him, or how much he remembers… Steve is elated to see Bucky receive praise, seem to actually enjoy it, and even tinker slightly with what he’s learned, working around the metal arm and using it as little as possible.

When Bucky asks if they can do it again later, Steve doesn’t have the heart to say no.


	56. Smutty Prompts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *nails a giant "NOT WORK SAFE" sign above this chapter*
> 
> *adds blinking lights*

> "[Bucky fucking skinny steve with a vibrator please](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/116610900431/busyfollowingbees-answered-your)"

 

“You really  _did_  get hit in the head a few times if you think we didn’t have those in our day,” Steve says, and that’s when Bucky smiles and turns the vibrator on, watching Steve’s face with delight as it changes to confused to realization to trepidation to lust.

“…how long does it last?” Steve asks finally, moving closer on the bed until Bucky can see the dark red marks blooming along the line of his shoulder, messy and perfect.

“It ain’t wind-up, it’s  _batteries_. It’ll go for hours.”

“ _Hours_ ,” Steve says, and he’s got that voice that Bucky knows too well, the one that means he’s going to do something overtaxing and stupid, and Bucky is ready for it this time, on board, ready to knock him back on the mattress and work this into Steve until he’s screaming and he’s given up every last drop of come.

 

* * *

>   
>  "[Steve's tits](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/116875911356/steve-used-to-joke-that-bucky-was-such-a-sucker)"

 

Steve used to joke that Bucky was such a sucker for busty dames that it was a WONDER he had any interest in Steve. “Everybody’s got flaws,” Bucky would say, rolling his hips against Steve under the bed sheets, hand stroking him. “Not your fault you’re flat chested. And mouthy. And dumb as rocks.”

Steve would hit him, which Bucky learned not to find demoralizing in the middle of sex, and generally after a rough couple of minutes they would lie sated and worn out on the too-narrow mattress as Bucky traced the curves of his ribs, his hipbones, until Steve shoved him off and went to clean up.

**

Later, when Bucky’s got it into his thick head that Steve still wants him, Bucky pushes him hard up against the wall of a burned-out barn in the countryside, pushing his uniform up and using the fading sunlight to drink in the new sight of him. Steve moans as Bucky gets his hands everywhere, pinching, finally reaching down to cup him as he dives in for a taste, suckling and making Steve keen.

“We’ve only got an hour before they come back with intel,” Steve warns, panting.

“Gonna cover you in marks,” Bucky says, not listening. “Gonna suck these til you come, gonna… ugh, no, what is it?” Bucky squirms, mad that Steve’s strong enough to pick him up now, mad that he’s been interrupted, but when Steve throws him onto the ground and straddles him, pulling him up so he’s back to eye level with Steve’s pert nipples, Bucky nearly pops then and there.

 

* * *

> "[sub!Bucky and switch!Steve having lovely sexy fun with Thor](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/116876304611/any-chance-of-you-writing-a-little-ficlet-of)"

 

Bucky’s never had a chance to get passed around, but it turns out he adores it, eyes lidding in relaxation as Thor directs him where to go with firm touches. 

“You still with us, Barnes?”

Shooting Steve a sly look, Bucky props himself up a little straighter on his elbows and arches his back, making the most of his ass and thighs. “Thor said I’m not to move til he says so,” Bucky drawls. Steve just smirks and continues to stroke himself, eyes lingering on Bucky’s mouth, his ass, and finally something going on behind him that Bucky can’t see. Suddenly something’s pressing in, something thick, and Bucky realizes it’s a thumb easing him open. Bucky moans and leans back into it.

“Patience,” Thor rumbles.

“He hasn’t got any,” Steve informs him regretfully. “And corporal punishment doesn’t work either. I’ve tried.”

“That doesn’t mean Thor shouldn’t try,” Bucky argues quietly, but the last word is broken in half when he feels Thor’s tongue sliding wet and warm down his spine.


	57. Gardening Prompt

> "[Bucky gardening?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/119725961336/prompt-bucky-gardening)"

 

Tony sees Bucky come out of the barn with something glinting in his right hand, looking determined.

“Are we okay?” Tony asks quietly, voice calm and quiet but eyes locked on the figure in the distance. Steve sits up straighter and follows his line of sight, eyes narrowing, and after a moment he relaxes and sinks back into the Adirondak chair.

“We’re fine,” Steve says, and Sam makes an inquisitive sound as he fishes around in the cooler for another beer. “Pruning shears,” Steve explains to him.

“Oh. Pruning shears. Yeah, he definitely can’t do any damage with those.” Tony continues to watch Bucky, but to his surprise, the man just drops to his knees next to a bush, leaning on his metal arm to get closer to the base, where he starts cutting. “Alright, I take it back. He really is channeling his Martha Stewart.”

“He wants to be helpful,” Steve says quietly, taking a pull of his beer before setting it down on the outdoor table and getting to his feet. He approaches Bucky slowly, bending left a little to crunch through a small pile of dried leaves when he’s about ten meters away. Bucky’s head pops up from behind the bush and he says something, and Steve says something indistinguishable back. Tony looks to Sam.

“You really think he’s getting better?” Tony asks.

“That’s all there is,” Sam says, taking the bottle opener in front of Tony and popping the cap off a new longneck. “There’s no ‘back to the way he was’, there’s no real ‘recovered’. There’s just better.” He takes the chair Steve had been sitting in, using the vantage point to watch as Steve kneels down and holds some branches back so Bucky can get in closer and find the dead ones more easily. “Better than yesterday. Better than last week. A few setbacks along the way. Just working toward better.”

Tony ‘hmm’s and tilts his head in assent. After a few moments, Steve says something else, still too far away to hear, and Bucky hesitates a moment before saying something back. Steve lets the branch go, thwacking Bucky gently in the face, and there’s a silent moment before Bucky falls back and laughs.


	58. Todd Returns Prompt

> [ohgreatblackbunny](http://ohgreatblackbunny.tumblr.com/)
> 
> [Remember that au of an au you did where tod meet the gups? Would you mind doing a scene of tod’s bucky and family of when he comes back :)  
>   
> ](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/142760084581/prompts-todd)

 

Tony, Rhodey, and Sam are canvassing New York. Natasha is on the phone with someone speaking in short, sharp phrases in Hungarian. Jane and Darcy, who _insist_  that the point of disappearance is the most likely place for reappearance, are on the balcony, scanning the area for trace elements of anything Asgardian.

Steve is in the viewing room attached to a holding cell, watching Bucky watch Thor talk to the Enchantress.

“I know not where the Midgardian child went,” she’s repeating dismissively, crossing one leg over the other. She’s got the nonchalance of a woman pretending they’re not in cuffs. “Every realm has its mirrors. How many, I could not say. The differences could be mistaken for smudges, for imperfections in the glass, but they are never so-”

Bucky punches the wall, making both rooms shake. The Enchantress flinches in irritation and shoots Thor a look.

“Thor. You abandon your people to consort with these animals? They cannot even keep their anger in check.”

“My anger is not much more bated than his.” Thor’s voice is low. “The child who fell into the vortex you created is that man’s child. He is precious to me also. Whatever magic you conjured to create that link between worlds, you must now unmake it.”

“I can’t-”

“The child must be returned.”

Steve watches with no small amount of satisfaction at how the Enchantress’s mouth falls open a little, thrown off balance by how much threat is in those words. Bucky pulls his hand out of the wall, flesh hand not much worse for wear, and looks from the one-way glass to Steve.

“Another five minutes and I’m going in there.”

“Thor will be enough,” Steve says. Thor _has_  to be enough. What Bucky could do - _will_ do -

Jarvis’s voice cuts into his thoughts. “There is an anomaly on the balcony.”

_Please_ , Steve’s mind screams. He races through the door, already pushed open by Bucky, who’s halfway down the hall and into the elevator.

“Fast,” Bucky barks at the ceiling, almost before Steve’s inside. “As fast as you can-”

Jarvis complies, and Steve and Bucky both have to crouch and brace as the elevator car jumps up seven floors in a handful of seconds. The doors open to the living area, and Bucky launches himself out through it, through the French doors. By the time Steve catches up Bucky is kneeling and clutching at something - _standing, someone Todd’s height and standing._ Steve joins him just as Bucky pulls away from the hug, revealing Todd, perfectly well, eyes wide but not scared, squirming as Bucky’s hands fly over his face, his unfamiliar clothes, his face again.

“You’re okay,” Bucky sobs.

“I promise-promise,” Todd insists, and somehow it’s his voice that does it. Steve pushes the heel of his hand across his eye and kneels down too, reaching out for an embrace. Todd turns to him and steps into it, tiny hands patting comfortingly at Steve’s sides.

Behind them, Steve can faintly hear Jarvis talking, can hear Jane sniffling, can hear the whirr of three suits landing . He’s ignoring all of it.

“Where _were_  you,” Steve says, just as Bucky says “I had no idea what to do.” Todd looks at both of them and then sticks his hand in his pocket, as if considering pulling something out, before shrugging.

“I was in, um. It was like here but different. They were all really nice and they didn’t - I wasn’t there.”

“ _What?_ ” Bucky’s checking Todd’s hairline now, then the rest of his head.

“It was a place, um,” Todd shifts nervously until he spots Bruce, who must have just come up from the labs. Todd yanks a sheet of folded paper out of his pocket and sticks it out, trying to get it as close to Jane as possible without moving from his spot. He seems to be aware that Bucky doesn’t want him going anywhere just yet. Jane steps forward awkwardly, plucking it up and unfolding it. “It wasn’t like _Mirror, Mirror_. Everyone wasn’t evil. They were the same.” He points around at everyone in turn. “So everyone was there, but they were still nice. And there were other kids.”

“Mirror…?” Bucky turns to Steve.

Steve thinks back to what the Enchantress said. “How does he-”

“He’s referencing a Star Trek episode,” Darcy cuts in. “I know I promised to stop talking about Star Trek, but it’s vitally important information for this particular moment.” Bucky looks up at her with confusion. “It’s an episode where someone gets pulled into a parallel universe.”

“ _Yeah!_ ” Todd nods enthusiastically. “Except I didn’t go to a bad one, everyone was nice and I got crackers, and, and Buggy was there but he was different? He was nice but I missed you, Bhmmm-” Todd is cut off as Bucky hugs him again, enveloping him entirely.

“Sorry.” Bucky pulls away. His face is a mess.

“We were very worried,” Steve chokes out. “We didn’t know what had happened to you.”

Tony cuts in. “Jane, what’s on the paper?”

Jane is scanning it over and over. “It - it’s from me.”

“It’s from There-You,” Todd corrects politely. “Not Here-You.”

Bucky and Steve exchange glances.

Tony turns to Thor. “She’s still in the cell, right?”

“Aye,” Thor rumbles. “The cuffs she is bound with will prevent any attempts to escape.”

“Good, because we’re deporting her to Asgard where I assume there’s a death penalty.” Tony’s voice shifts from an electric buzz to normal as his mask pops up, finally stepping closer to get in on the hugs. “So you weren’t hurt? How long were you there?”

“Couple weeks,” Todd says, throwing his arms around Tony’s neck and squeezing.

“Twenty-six days,” Jane adds. She’s still reading the paper. She sounds a little bit in shock. “That was… how long it took me to replicate the conditions and… make sure the time differential wasn’t substantial enough to…”

“To what?” Bucky asks.

She looks up to his face. “This other Jane, um, knew that if an Avengers kid went missing for anything over an hour, one of us might tear the city apart. So, she couldn’t send Todd back until she knew how to do it while compressing the chronological lapse as much as she possibly could.”

Steve stares at Jane for a moment, then at Todd, who has let go of Tony to begin distributing hugs to everyone who is in line for them.

It’s possible that someone in the other world prepped him for this. That everyone would be scared. Would have missed him. Would want to reassure themselves that he really was back.

Maybe Steve had done it.

“…Steve,” Bucky says again, like he’s repeating.

“Sorry,” Steve says. “This is a lot.”

Bucky’s expression says ‘preaching to the choir’. “Jane just asked if you know anyone named Namor.”

Steve reaches back in his mind. “I don’t think so,” he says finally. “The super serum has given me great memory, but ask me again in an hour or so when I’ve calmed down… why?”

“I’ve just got a list here,” Jane says. “Rosie, Jasper, Pippin-”

“Pippin’s a book character,” Bucky cuts in. “And… so’s Rosie, maybe.”

“And Clara,” Jane finishes.

“My grandmother?” Bucky hazards.

Jane reads over the list again, brows coming together further. “Yeah, this definitely… wow, okay.” Tony reaches for the paper, but Jane backs up quickly. “No no no, this was from me to me, it says explicitly at the top that I can’t hand it around.” She turns to Sam, looking like she’s about to say something before deciding against it. “There’s not much technical here, um, for reasons of … technology leak, which actually makes a lot of sense now that I think about it, um… but, wow, they outlined what homework they gave Todd to try and keep his schoolwork in order.”

Rhodey looks at Steve. “I can think of who would’ve done that.”

“There-Steve was nice,” Todd pipes up, “like you. But he was extra nice to Bucky! And Sam was dating a lady I’ve never met before.”

Sam’s eyebrows rise. “Was she a nice lady?”

Todd nods, his grin huge. “She made bee wings! She was so cool.”

Right on time, Bucky begins checking for head wounds again.


	59. More Rescue Dog AU

> [ohsweetcrepes](http://ohsweetcrepes.tumblr.com/) said: […][can i ask for more of doggy steve and doggy bucky’s adventures with tony stark? ](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/143628553726/prompts-the-one-where-theyre-dogs)
> 
> ([first bit](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F1925544%2Fchapters%2F7280762&t=NGFhNTZiNDg2MzYyYzRhMTQ5NGIwNGE5NTU5NzQ3ZWI1OTgzNDRiOCxINnplMkd3Yg%3D%3D), [second bit](http://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=http%3A%2F%2Farchiveofourown.org%2Fworks%2F1925544%2Fchapters%2F7627295&t=MjY1Y2QyZDExM2IxNzU3NmI5YWQyMTE4OWJiYTQyYzdiZThmMGQzMCxINnplMkd3Yg%3D%3D))

 

“They’re probably so clingy because you went out without them,” Pepper suggests wryly.

“Yeah, well, that Russian chick never taught Steve how to be a wingman, so it made sense to leave ‘em here.” Tony is in the kitchen, picking out wine glasses and trying to guess if Pepper wants white or rosé. White, right? Rosé is trendy nonsense. He’ll grab some white. “Bucky, jesus, chill out. Go.” He jerks his chin toward the door, and Bucky whines softly before pulling his nose from under Tony’s jacket and trotting out. Steve, who was snuffling at Tony’s shoes, gets the hint and leaves too.

Dry or sweet? Dry. Hmm. “How’s a moscato sound?”

“That sounds perfect.” Pepper sounds contented. Happy. Maybe this date actually went well. It was a date, right? Is? Is a date?

Tony focuses on pouring just the right amount of wine to communicate ‘inviting’ without coming off as ‘desperately obvious’.

“Oh!” Pepper’s surprised sound is followed by a trill of quiet laughter. Frowning, Tony scoops up the glasses and goes to investigate.

Bucky is _on the couch_ , seated next to Pepper with his head perched on her shoulder. Steve, behaving better but not well, is at her feet with _his_  head on her knee. He’s not a big drooler, but god, when have they ever been so -

“Down,” Tony barks, watching Bucky shuffle reluctantly before actually climbing _into_  Pepper’s lap. She begins to laugh louder, apparently unaware of how such a giant dog could drool and paw its away to damaging a perfectly good dress. “No mutts on the Vera Wang, boys, _down, Jesus,_ ”

“It’s fine,” Pepper cuts in. She’s trying to figure out how to get a hand to Steve’s head without dislodging Bucky. “It’s what dry cleaners are for.”

Steve pushes his nose into Pepper’s hand and _licks_  it.

_I bought you from the priciest, scariest, most foreign trainer in the State,_  Tony thinks darkly.

“Lay down,” Pepper’s saying to Bucky, who seems to be trying to figure out how to sit entirely in her tiny lap. “Lay down, sweetheart, there you go. Much better.” She reaches for the spot behind his ears and he whuffs contentedly. Tony sighs in deep resignation and takes the very end of the couch, where he’s treated to Bucky’s wagging tail against his thigh.

“I’d pass you your drink, but you don’t appear to have any free hands.”

“You’ll have to give me a sip,” Pepper says seriously. “I am very, very busy.”

Tony considers it, finally leaning across the length of his dumb, stupid, wonderful dog to press the glass to her lips. She pets the dogs in sync as she takes a small sip, grinning wryly to him as he takes it back.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t deserve you,” Tony confides.

She smiles contentedly. “You don’t.”


	60. Pizza Dog Prompt & More

 

> [steve and bucky have to dogsit pizza dog but they never had pets as children and the only instructions clint left are basically "I dunno, just do dog things with him" and they're both real worried about fucking it up](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/136903377906/steve-and-bucky-have-to-dogsit-pizza-dog-but-they)
> 
>  

“But we used to feed snack food to the strays all the _time_ ,” Bucky reminds him anxiously.

“Yeah, I know, but,” Steve, for the eighth time, tries to redirect Pizza Dog’s affectionate snuffling that is closing in on the dinner plate. “There’s all these articles now, about food you can’t give your dogs. Apparently a bunch of things make them sick.”

“Like what?”

Steve’s mind blanks. “Um, bones,” he says finally. “And cuts of meat that have too much fat on them.”

Bucky’s eyes narrow. “Dogs _eat other animals_. Which are composed largely of meat and bones. Does the future know that?”

Pizza Dog whines hopefully and licks Steve’s knee, which is as close as he can get to the drumsticks.

“Okay. Okay. I’ll…” Steve peels the skin off, rips off a piece of dark meat, and, after a moment’s hesitation, rips that piece in half. “Sit,” he says quietly.

Pizza Dog tilts his head as if it’s unclear to him what that has to do with anything, but he takes his paws off of Steve’s shins and backs up just enough to sit.

 

 

 

 

>  
> 
> [Prompt: Steve & Bucky comforting SAM after a bad day/nightmare?](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/133041688801/prompt-steve-bucky-comforting-sam-after-a-bad)

 

Sam wakes up on Stark’s couch with the weird feeling of pressure on his left hand - someone is squeezing it. He turns onto his side and cranes his neck. Bucky Barnes, who hasn’t been seen since the socializing began ten hours ago, is staring at the floor and _holding hands with him_.

“Hi,” Sam says, and blinks as Bucky lets go of his hand. Something about the loss of contact triggers a flash of the dream he was just in - RIley slipping out of his fingers, falling into the cloud of smoke below, disappearing forever.

(That’s not how it went down, but that’s often how the dream happens.)

“You were having a bad dream,” Bucky says quietly. His voice sounds rusty, unused; Sam realizes this is the first time he’s heard it.

Sam tries to balance the shock of Bucky speaking with the aftershocks of reliving his failure. “Thank you,” he finally manages. “I was.”

Bucky nods and continues to look at the floor, but he’s not moving away. Sam tries to gauge if he’s trying to say something, or if he doesn’t know how to leave, or if he’s actually comfortable crouching here, on the floor next to Stark’s couch in this enormous living room, now that there’s one person in it and not seven.

“Always have a hard time sleeping in new places. Don’t know what it is. Usually doesn’t end too well.”

“Was it about your war?”

_Your war_. Sam mulls over this wording. “Yeah.”

Bucky drops slowly into a cross-legged position on the rug, eyes traveling closer to the general area of Sam’s face. “What was it like?”

“Food hasn’t gotten much better,” Sam quips, perhaps out of habit. But Bucky’s still sitting, head tilted a little, waiting. “Lots of deserts,” he says finally. “Enemy never had a uniform. Complicated things.”

Bucky nods, digesting this, face serious. “Is that who you dream about?”

“Huh?”

“The enemy,” Bucky clarifies.

Sam just shakes his head. When he peeks over, Bucky is looking away now, maybe at the window.

“Us either,” Bucky says, and gets to his feet. Sam watches him leave, down the hallway, and thinks about Bucky’s war. Steve’s war. About that inhumanly red face Sam’s seen in history books, and trench warfare, and the things that haven’t changed at all.

He cradles his head back under his forearm and starts to let his eyes drift shut again. He doesn’t expect a silhouette to reappear in the hall, carrying something. Turns out to be blankets and a pillow.

“To make it more like your bed,” Bucky says, putting them on the floor in Sam’s reach before walking away again. 

 

 

 

>  
> 
>  
> 
> [Matt overhears Steve and Bucky talking about their opinions of Daredevil](http://fieldbears.tumblr.com/post/136994122951/matt-overhears-steve-and-bucky-talking-about-their)

 

“You were right,” a male voice says, and before Matt can tune him out, he continues: “that Daredevil guy is good after all.”

“Really? How’d they figure it out?” The other man - a pleasant, more sonorous voice than the first, a tenor with the same gentle wash of Brooklyn hiding behind the generic Northeast American accent. Matt sits up a little straighter in his booth, allowing himself the rare luxury of eavesdropping.

“That Fisk guy made a crazy break for it, but it looks like they finally pinned all the stuff with the cops on him, and…” Matt both ‘sees’ and hears the newspaper shuffle as the first man - prosthetic arm under his hoodie, some unfamiliar material that slides effortlessly against the cotton fabric of the sleeve, what _is_  that? - flips the article he must be reading to the next page. “Jesus. There were some bloodbaths, but the vigilante more or less took this Fisk guy down when he tried to outrun arrest. Okay. I owe you a dollar.”

A _dollar?_

“Inflation,” the second man says, and it’s clear from his voice that he’s grinning before he takes a sip of his coffee with milk.

“We made the bet two weeks ago.”

“Inflation happens more quickly these days. You’ve really got to start catching up now that you’re back.”

Second guy might be a returned veteran. They must be close friends to joke about a recent tour like that, and actually, the body language supports that theory - Matt can tell that the first man is slouched and relaxed everywhere but the shoulder. The second man is leaning forward on his elbows, getting into the first man’s personal space, leaning in a way that means he’s trying to read the article upside-down.

“Wow, he wasn’t wearing _that_  before.”

“I know that look.”

“No, no,” the second man says, not even trying to be convincing, and with a start Matt realizes what that tone means. What the second man thinks of the new armor. “I could take him or leave him, really.”

“Some guy with those lips, a hard-on for justice, and now he’s-”

“Honestly, you’ve got nothing to-”

“No. This is your kryptonite. I’m going to walk into your bedroom and see posters of this fella-”

The second man laughs and gently kicks the first man under the table. Matt feels the blood rushing to his cheeks and neck. The cafe is incredibly busy and there are two full tables between him and the two men, but he still has to fight back the urge to hide his embarrassment behind his hands.

“He _is_  fit,” the first man is conceding. “Think he’d be up for-”

“Jesus, Buck, _shut up.”_ Soft, melodic laughter.

“You’re the one saying I gotta get with the times, aren’t you?” The first man is leaning forward, pressing his advantage. Matt can’t finish packing his things quickly enough. “We should find this guy on Grinding or whatever it’s called, ask if he’s up for a threes-”

“ _Shut up!_ ”

 


End file.
